


Drift away

by Wildphoenix_ofthe80s



Series: What if this Storm Ends? [6]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Abandonment, Aziraphale is falling - or is he?, Birth, Child Abandonment, Child Loss, Despair, F/M, Healing, I'm Sorry, Implied Harriet/Nanny Ashtoreth, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Labour, Loss of Faith, M/M, Marital Strife, Mental Breakdown, Miscarriage, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Harm, all a bit bleak, breeding programme, falling, potential autistic character, sort of self harm anyway, special delivery from god, the author works through some feelings, there will be softness later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:40:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 34,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22914901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wildphoenix_ofthe80s/pseuds/Wildphoenix_ofthe80s
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley's happy little bubble had to burst sometime; The plan was, after all, Ineffable.
Relationships: Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: What if this Storm Ends? [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1531430
Comments: 89
Kudos: 50





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I won't mince my words - I was working through a lot of trauma with similarities to this plot, and so I'd like to dedicate this work to my niece - a precious little star who taught us that life is fleeting, but love remains. 
> 
> It was hard to write. 
> 
> I apologise to the Ineffable husbands for putting them through absolute Hell for this.

Aziraphale had known that something wasn't quite right in a way, he supposed. That their 4th child wasn't thriving, their aura weak and energy fluttering unhappily. So on some level he had set to work. Stem and heal a brain bleed. Fix the ghost of tiny fingers forming curled and damaged from lack of oxygen supply. A little boost on the tissue in the forming kidneys, to cope with the stress of what was happening. Consciously, the angel probably wasn't aware of any of this, and it was a background function produced by the strength of love in his heart. He might have performed any number of these events before for his previous children, and never known.  
Loving as he was, he kept on, unconsciously tweaking one thing after another, trying to save a tiny corporation that was just not quite strong enough, not forming well enough to function. They demanded he help, leeching off his energy in a free for all he unconsciously gave his all to.  
Whether the tiny being knew it was hopeless or not, it may have recognised it's hosts energy starting to taste of panic, exhaustion and pain, and finally the energy's strength (If not the love) itself beginning to waver.  
That's when it heard the voice, "You've fought hard and long enough. Time to let your father deal with the rest, dear child."

*

A cold February had given way to a wet March. Rain hammered against the windows of the South downs cottage, and wind lashed the bushes outside to and fro across them. Not that the angel in the library paid any attention to it, wrapped up in his warm cardigan and reading by the soft yellow light of a standing lamp.  
"Really coming down out there." Crowley remarked as he entered the library. Aziraphale looked over his reading glasses at his husband, "Mm."  
Crowley sat on the desk beside the angel, slipping off one shoe to bend his knee and put his foot up on the edge, "Hey, Angel?"  
"Yes Dear?" The book was still first and foremost in the angel's interests at present.  
"I think the girls are ready."  
Aziraphale put the book down and blinked.  
"To start flying?" Crowley smiled.  
"oh-OH!" Aziraphale managed, "You're sure?"  
"Well, Ariel was hovering pretty well when I went to put them to bed."  
"Oh, Crowley, they're growing up so quickly!" Aziraphale paused sadly, but forced a smile, "They've always wanted to though, they're going to be so happy." Then he paused, "Erm. How do we teach them?"  
Crowley stared at him, "I thought you'd have some idea."  
"We were made knowing." Aziraphale managed, "I'm not sure how, and it's not as though birds write books."  
"...Hrm. Well, let's think about this." Crowley managed, "Ariel can hover for a few seconds. Alice shouldn't be far behind. So their wings should be strong enough to bear their weight now. We need to strengthen them for long distance though. If they hold hands, and one of us holds onto one of their other hands, we should be able to gain enough lift for them to practise safely."  
Aziraphale nodded, "It could work, but I think garden only the first couple of times?"  
"Of course." Crowley snorted, "That's my pride and joy we're talking about raising high off the ground."  
"Our pride and joy, Crowley." Aziraphale corrected. Crowley couldn't hide a smile.  
"When shall we do this then? Not tonight obviously."  
"Check the weather Crowley, we want a warm evening, a light breeze with uplift, and we need Alexas to be distracted or he'll be upset."  
"It'll be next month then? I'll find out when Harriet's free, he loves staying with her, she spoils him." Crowley chuckled, "I'll go and start the hot chocolate, Angel."  
"Thank you Dear, I'll just finish this chapter."  
Crowley had barely shut the door when Aziraphale put his bookmark in the book and sighed deeply. Every milestone the girls had hit had rocked him to his core, even after they knew they could have more. But now...  
It had been nearly 8 months since his last pregnancy had ended in miserable, traumatic miscarriage. He was still feeling mood slumps, and this would be one of them, he knew.  
The ten minutes it took for Crowley to prepare their bedtime hot chocolate were therefore spent not reading, but seated in quiet contemplation. He couldn't show Crowley how much it still hurt, but it took time to put that mask back up effectively.  
By the time Crowley knocked the door, "Taking it upstairs, Angel." he was calm. 

*

In a small, miraculously soundproofed penthouse flat, the windows rattled with noise that couldn't be drowned out by the weather.  
"Zztupid, proud Archangel." Beelzebub shook their head, "Your dirty angel zzaid adjust your hipzzzz."  
"That creature is nothing to do with-Aa! Fucking fucking AAA." Gabriel yelled, the building vibrating with the force of his anger and pain.  
"Zzort your hips out." Beelzebub growled again, as they hopped up onto the bed to hover over the Archangel, "Or I will azizt the child."  
Gabriel finished panting and eyed the knife the demon held.  
"I'll smite you on the spot you hellish bastard!"  
Beelzebub grabbed the Archangel's wrists and pressed them to the mattress above his head, neatly sitting on the top of his bump as they pressed the knife to his throat, "Do it."  
Gabriel had refused to cry in pain. He had bitten his lips, a pillow and even his arm to stave off that need. He wasn't going to be told what to do by the Prince of hell now, "Go ahead, discorporate me, you'll either kill them or send them off with me."  
Beelzebub snorted, "You think I am zztupid?" The prince sank their knife into the Archangel's shoulder. Gabriel choked, but held back on the scream still.  
He finally relented when the Prince twisted the knife as the next contraction hit, "Alright, anything to get rid of it as soon as!"  
Satisfied, the Prince removed the knife, leaving the wound under the care of a tiny platoon of flies in case the Angel required further persuasion. Thankfully after the minor adjustment, things started to move far more swiftly. Gabriel did manage an involuntarily gasp when Beelzebub yanked the baby free. Unlike it's 'mother' it screamed and flailed.  
At length Gabriel risked a look, wondering if Beelzebub was holding it by the scruff like a puppy, only to find them cradling it properly. The Prince caught their eye, "Wouldn't do to break the baztardz neck, dumbass." A snap of their fingers tied and cut the cord. Gabriel panicked a little at the distance the Prince seemed to be from him, "Hey, don't you dare walk off with them."  
Beelzebub turned back and Gabriel noticed their fly rubbing it's tiny hands. He glanced down at the rest of the cord and shuddered, "How did you even get so disgusting, you were a bloody angel, how did you let go so much?! How could you-"  
Beelzebub moved quickly, sitting on Gabriel's still aching middle to pin him again, "Zzzzyou have no idea how much falling corruptzzzz." They placed the still squalling child on Gabriel's chest, "And yet I am zzhe one who hazz already checked the child for injuriezzz caused by your zzztobbornnezz." The Prince bared suddenly demonic teeth, "How did you lozze your love, Archangel? How did you lozze yourself?'  
The Archangel was briefly as a loss for words, staring into once familiar ice blue eyes that started to split into facets, obviously a demonic familiar skill he had never had cause to see before. He took a breath, trying to calm himself despite the scent of Brimstone, death and rot that still lingered on them even after months living above ground and showering. At least he assumed that was why they'd been in the bathroom every morning.  
The Archangel clenched his jaw, "I have been at war since before time began, war with my family. There's no space for love in wartime."  
Beelzebub snarled, "And you think the almighty isn't trying to teach uzz why you're wrong?" They lifted the baby again, "Archangel, hold your zzon and feel zzomething."  
"I don't need to hold it to feel disgusted with it." Gabriel snapped, "Get it away from me!" 

* 

It was some hours later that Gabriel left the bedroom of the flat, his body miracled back to normal but still panging in all the wrong places. He stared out of the windows, at the water pooling on the balcony and running into the little gutter. He focussed on the reflection in the glass, Beelzebub sitting across the sofa with the infant asleep in one arm and the radio times balanced across their lap.  
"What do you want to call him?" They asked without looking up. Gabriel's face creased with annoyance, "I don't care. You ask me to care for that bastard - that you put there-"  
"Becauzz your bozz and my bozz zaid i zhould. You could havve refuzzed."  
"It's disgusting." Gabriel ignored them, "They have a word for unwanted - 'mating' on earth-"  
"Oh yezz. I am aware of the conzept." The Prince replied, "Crowley very nearly did not zave his huzzband becauzz he feared it zo."  
"Wait, what? You cannot be comparing-"  
"You had done to you, what you did to your dirty Angel." Beelzebub stated, "He wazz lucky, he wanted the rezultz."  
"Well I don't." Gabriel replied, "One disgusting hybrid. The Lord and Lucifer have what they asked of me. I'm going home."  
The Prince didn't look up. As the Archangel stormed out, they shook their head, "Pride izz a zzin, Gabriel. Thizz demon knowzz too well."


	2. Chapter 2

The following day dawned. The rain was lighter, but this just made it that irritating smich, the sort of rain that the wind whipped up and got everywhere, and soaked you to the bone in ten minutes flat.   
Aziraphale had been walking for an hour. He spent more time away from the cottage since his loss, thinking, mulling over the world, retreating into himself.   
Today his already acute distress had been heightened by something - someone - out beyond Tadfield. He would have called in on Adam for help locating, but he had to remind himself that the boy was at collage these days, and wouldn't be home until later.   
He had finally followed his own faltering instincts to a copse in an otherwise empty, sodden field. Crows squawked and wheeled above, and for a few minutes that was the only sound except the squelch of his soaked shoes in the mud.   
Then there was a croaking roar. Aziraphale had just reached the line of the inner trees, and froze at the deafening noise.   
"Get. Out." Came the snarl.  
"Oh, really." Aziraphale snorted, "A duke of hell in a sticky situation, and won't take advice from a knowledgeable ethereal being."  
"Get out of here, bastard angel!" Hastur roared, "This is your fault! You're the angel that caught that bastard Crowley-"  
"This is not my fault." Aziraphale replied, "You can blame Gabriel for this." He finally approached the writhing figure in the hollow, "How long have you been here?"  
Hastur snarled, throwing a bright light at Aziraphale. It collided painfully with his hand, and he started at the prickling of hellfire, panic coursing through him before astonishment followed it. He gazed at his hand, unbelieving.  
"Don't think I won't defend us." Hastur snarled.   
"Oh, I don't think you can." Aziraphale whispered, "I had thought for years I might not be an angel anymore." His fingers had a pink scorch as if he had touched heat, but a quick look into his being told him the hellfire had no entry to his angelic form. That had changed over the last few months too, a fact he hadn't yet told Crowley. But all this was his mind wandering. He gazed back down to the demon.  
"I'll help you."  
"Fuck off!"  
"No. You need help, and I'm experienced." He knelt at the demons knees, "I mean honestly you can't even build a nest properly."  
Hastur tried to swipe for him, but Aziraphale caught his hand as he had done some years prior, "So you gave it a go in the end?"  
The duke growled.  
"Who's is it? Anybody I know?" The angel said as he removed the demons tattered trousers with a click, "Do you know anything about what's happening? I can talk you through it but I need to know how far you've got to go."  
The demon snarled again. Aziraphale paused, rainwater in his eyes, "You've been here a while, haven't you?" He clicked his fingers again, a peaked canopy appearing over their heads.   
"Get your hands off-" Hastur snarled again. Aziraphale kept hold of the demons knees, pushing them up and apart, "I think you would benefit from a lesson here." He held the demon still, checking, ignoring the shriek at the intrusion, "You won't be here long, anyway. Hows the child doing?"  
Expletives were his reply.  
"Come now. You don't care for it? Surely you could have just--" He paused before he said it, simultaneously feeling his own hurt as well as not wanting to give the demon any ideas. But Hastur finally spoke, "Duty. Privilage." He snarled again, a cry that jumped octaves into a painful shriek, "--Chosen for the job."   
"I see." Aziraphale replied, realisation dawning on him, "Keep your legs like this. You might want to try and do something with your hips. Bit wider maybe."  
"Why." Hastur snarled.  
"Believe me, these hips are not made for this." The angel replied, "Were you around before humans discovered safe surgery? Do you know how many humans died in this position?"  
The demon croaked, weakly adjusting themselves, "No.WHY."  
Aziraphale stared blankly at him. The demon narrowed his black eyes, "Why... You here."   
"You're not doing a good job of hiding your agony?" Aziraphale frowned, before he realised what Hastur might actually be asking, stuck without a word, "Why am I helping you?" He paused, "I had the benefit of reading, a partner, and a midwife. You're alone. You shouldn't be alone."   
"Was fine." The duke snarled, "Was absolutely fine."   
"Not with those hips you weren't." Aziraphale sighed, "Where is your partn-your mate?"  
Another snarl, this one of pain that didn't seem to be physical, "Angels don't want much to do with us. Except _you._ "  
"Well, one of them must have-"  
"We were assigned." Hastur snapped, "No free choice. Assigned, and discarded."  
"That's terrible." Aziraphale felt horror at the idea. He reached out to place a hand on the dukes middle, but the demon slapped at him, "Get away. No angels."  
"I'm sorry." the angel settled onto the wet leaves, another thought and a click putting a plastic sheet under them, "I'll just talk you through it. No touching."

*

Aziraphale stayed sitting back, talking incessantly to the demon. He did reach at one point to grip his wrists, to help pull him up, but he refused the aid. Snarls echoed up and down the fields and the rain continued to hammer on the little shelter. Eventually he couldn't be a bystander anymore though, miracling a towel at least so the child would be warm. Hastur snarled at him and scratched his arms up for daring to touch it, and Aziraphale eventually handed it over and stood well back, "You, er, have a male presenting child."  
Hastur glowered at him.  
"Congratulations? Comisserations?"   
Hastur had the bundle under his coat and was glaring pointedly at Aziraphale. The glare was easy enough to read - _You're done here. Fuck off._  
The angel blinked, "You're still vulnerable.'  
"Fuck. Off."  
"Fine." Aziraphale replied, "But I'll be just the other side of the trees until you're fit to leave."  
He heard the baby cry as he left the copse, and his heart broke all over again. He sank to his knees in the wet grass, then sat, arms around his knees and head down.   
He couldn't tell when the sound of the child's cries were drowned out by his own.   
The angel had lost track of time when he heard Hastur's screech, snarl, and the child crying yet again. He couldn't move momentarily, but forced himself to stand.   
He needn't have bothered. The world tipped suddenly sideways with a crack that he hoped wasn't his skull being cleaved. Then everything went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What, MORE babies?!  
> Hang in there. We got one more visit to make before this gets off the ground XD


	3. Chapter 3

Newt was at work when the door to Jasmine cottage was knocked. Anathema opened it, half expecting a little sibling of the Them bunking off school, or an aggressive goose, or somebody complaining about the unruly hedge or last night's witchcraft. She was not expecting a figure in white holding a basket and looking miserable in the rain.  
"Delivery."  
"So I see. Forgive my concern but what is it?" Anathema replied.  
"S'yours, innit. Signature please."  
Anathema stared at the delivery person, trying to fathom who they were. Their aura wasn't decisively helping.  
"Listen love, I got other things to be doing and as for this weather-" The man started, when the basket began to cry. Anathema stared wide eyed at it, "No."  
"Too late, S'yours, that's the orders. Take this to the witch, she'll raise it well."  
"I didn't-I never-"  
"Neither did your friend the Principality, didn't stop him stepping up."  
Anathema stared the man in his hazel eyes, "Bear with me one moment." she ran indoors, to the cupboard with her cards in. She flicked through, stared at the one she picked out, "Oh. Oh my."  
_Anathema, important is this news. Product of the fallen can't leave quite alone. Jennet is her name and though she comes from plenty she will call yours home._   
The delivery man was unamused when she got back, "Bloody hell love, if me and the missus had been offered a baby without all that messy stuff we'd jump at the offer. An' it's pouring it down if you hadn't noticed."  
"Give me the clipboard." Anathema replied.  
"Finally."  
After the man had gone, she went inside, the basket still crying and snuffling. It wasn't a needy cry, not yet. She sat in the living room and placed the basket on the table, where at least it was warm. With a deep breath she opened the lid. The baby quietened immediately. It cooed at her. Anathema reached to lift them out, "Hello. Its - nice to meet you I guess?" she pulled back the swaddling a little to see her better, "A daughter, hm? I suppose I had better call your papa and get him to pick up some supplies. I wonder what size diaper you wear?" The girl giggled, and Anathema smiled warmly at her, "Welcome home... Jennet."

* 

"Aziraphale!" Crowley shouted against the rain and wind. The pale figure stood out against the grass even at dusk, and he ran over, Adam and Dog trailing in his wake. He had popped in to pick the lad up when the Angel wasn't home by the time the children needed picking up, swapping them to Deirdre's delight, if not Arthur's. Deirdre loved their children.  
"Angel!" Crowley yelped, scooping him up, immediately noting the muddy and bloody marks in his hair, "Angel, what the actual-"  
"Mr. Crowley-" Adam was staring at the copse, and at Dog, who was barking incessantly at it. Crowley ignored them.  
Aziraphale blinked at his husband, raising a hand to rub the back of his head. It was spinning from the blow, "Crowley?"  
Crowley soothed him, checking to make sure the blood was only from minimal damage, "I said we were going to have more storms, Angel! Why did you have to go out walking today?"  
"Hastur!" Aziraphale shrieked suddenly, "Crowley, the copse-"  
"Eh? What's that bastard got to do with-"  
"Mr Crowley-" Adam called again.  
"Please just check the copse!" Aziraphale squeaked in a panic.  
Crowley loosed Aziraphale down, "Look after him, Adam. Let me deal with that bastard." Adam raised an eyebrow, but moved to hold the umbrella over the angel as he sat up. Dog shied away from Crowley's rage too, moving to clamber into Aziraphale's lap and lick his face.  
Crowley clambered up the slope and into the muddy basin within. Aziraphale's makeshift shelter had been torn down, and the serpent wrinkled his nose, "Smells like..." He paused. He'd smelt that recently. Ish. That was the smell of blood and amniotic fluid. It was everywhere.  
He made his way to where a pile of fallen leaves and mud nearly covered a familiar figure. He wanted to wrench the duke over onto his back, demand to know what he'd done to his partner, but something wasn't right. The duke wasn't for starters, his arm bent over his face defensively.  
"Hasstur." Crowley hissed, kneeling beside him, "Why is my angel so concerned about you?" He rolled the demon over. Hastur snarled and tried to grasp his shoulders, but couldn't. Crowley realised in that moment that the smell of him indicated there should have been a newborn here - but there wasn't, and Hastur was more dishevvelled, bruised and exhausted than even a birth could account for.  
"What happened?" Crowley managed finally.  
"Bastard angel took him."  
Crowley raised his eyebrows incredulously, "What?"  
The flame haired demon strode from the copse a few minutes later. Aziraphale was standing, at least, "Crowley, what happened, where's-"  
"Hastur is fine. C'mon Angel, we have to get you home and dry."  
"Crowley, the child though, I can't feel-"  
"Seems the maggot baby's dad came to pick him up." Crowley replied. He wished he'd rephrased it immediately, at Aziraphale's wide eyes.  
"Crowley! We can't just leave him-"  
"He's a duke of hell, Aziraphale. I know him. He'll rest then hop on back downstairs. Perhaps he'll tell Beez and start another war." He turned his husband away from the copse, "He's not an angel, he's a demon. Not a demon like me, either. And if he is pissed at angels I'm not having you hanging around him. Let him be, he knows where we live if he wants help. Come on, Adam."

*

"Okay." Newt nodded at the phone, "So. Nappies sizes 1 to 3, wipes, formula, bottles, sterilising liquid, onesies newborn to 6 months and a baby sling."  
"Thank you for taking this so well, Newt. I'm surprised."  
"Well, I'm excited!" He grinned, "Just one thing. Won't we need puppy food?"  
"Puppy food? Newt why would you need puppy food for a baby?!"  
Newt swallowed and stared at the phone. "But... I thought you said Jennet was a puppy?"  
Anathema choked, "Translating the prophesies isn't an exact science, Newt!  
"Ana, there's a huge gap between puppy and baby!"  
"I... I didn't realise you were listening so hard to that part!"  
"I wanted a puppy..."  
"You mean you don't want a daughter?"  
"No, no Ana I didn't say that-"  
"Good. Because she's here now. We can talk about this later. Just get the things on the list, okay? We can look at other things at the weekend."  
Newt stared at the phone as the witch hung up. Across the room Shadwell looked up, "More witchy business, lad?"  
"..." Newt looked dazed, "I... We're... not ready! How can we have a baby when we don't even have a dog?!" He stood hurriedly, "I mean what if I break them?! I break technology designed for kids to throw against the pavement, I'm sure to break a tiny human!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then there were 3. Huh, 3 babies, where have I heard that before?


	4. Chapter 4

Anathema was reading when Newt got home (Thankfully early - although Jennet hadn't started screaming for food yet, the witch felt it could only be a matter of time).  
"Ah, there you are."  
"I-I got here as fast as I-" He eyed the basket, "What - what does she."  
"Oh no, put that lot down and sit down first."  
He did as he was told, biting his lip as the witch put her arms into the basket to take the bundle out.  
"Now I know we've spent the afternoon together, but you need to get used to this person too. This is your papa, Jennet."  
Newt froze. His hands had to be guided to hold her correctly. She was a pretty baby, with wide green eyes and dark brown hair. She looked as though she had been made to match them, her skin colour a match for Anathemas as well as her nose, and her puzzled expression familiar to him from the mirror.  
"What - Where did she come from?"  
"Well, that's not really clear. She was dropped off by a delivery man in white, and her aura is very pale - so I guess she's pure, even... heavenly?" She quietly filed the part of the prophecy that mentioned the fallen away in the list of facts Newt definitely didn't need to worry about.  
"And she's - definitely - for us?"  
"Our names are on the address label."  
Newt's panic was rising, "Oh, what are we going to do about school? they all expect you to have computers!"  
"Newt, she's years away from school." Anathema took her gently from him, watching his hands begin to shake, "Listen, she's a gift from somewhere, prophesised and important. Not some random order from the dark web. We have a responsibility to her."  
Newt nodded, but his expression was still unconvinced.  
"You want something to do? Make her up some of that formula. It's simple enough, boil the water, mix a scoop per so many millilitres and let it cool a little. Wash the bottles and let them sit in some water with sterilising mix in while you do it - then rinse them before you fill one. She's got to be getting hungry by now. I'll go and work out what size everything she is."  
Forty minutes later, Newt entered with a warm bottle, "I didn't know how much to make so I just made the jug."  
Anathema nodded encouragingly, "Okay, let's see if you're hungry." She took the offered bottle. The baby turned her head at the mere scent of it, opening her mouth expectantly.  
"Oh she was hungry." Chuckled Anathema. Newt sat on the armchair next to the sofa, watching intently.  
"You've seen celestial babies fed before." Anathema smiled, "Unless you were hoping for a go?"  
"No, I just. Er. Anathema? I feel like she's... watching me."  
"Newt she's facing the bottle."  
"I know. I just feel the weird sensation that her eyes are on me."  
Anathema blinked, "We'll have to ask somebody more experienced in Celestials."  
"Sergent Shadwell will be down the White rabbit by now."  
Anathema rolled her eyes, but stifled the groan she could feel at the mention of the witchfinder. Newt realised his mistake almost instantly and got up, starting to move to the index cards as he continued, "Agnes?"  
"Aziraphale and Crowley, Newt." she sighed, "By the way, you get the next feed."

* 

The storm worsened again that evening. Rain lashed the windows, the thrashing of the trees never ceased, and the wind howled relentlessly.  
Crowley lay awake in bed, listening to it as Aziraphale gently snored in his arms. He was concerned, and not about the angel's already healed head wound. Not that there was anything new about it, these days; Crowley had been concerned about Aziraphale since the sudden, severe morning sickness that had been the first clue that all was not right with the baby he had later lost.  
The fight Aziraphale's body and soul had put up to heal it, the loss itself, and the aftermath, his angel admitting to the rage and hurt that he had held against himself, Gabriel, and God herself for it, was the stuff of nightmares to the husband of an Angel. And Aziraphale's post - loss dream, the lord's admission that she knew, and hadn't warned him or told him to be careful, hurt his hell-burned core. Crowley hadn't had the energy to bristle back then, but he felt that pain with every fibre of his forsaken soul.  
He knew Aziraphale was still hurting, and had worked tirelessly not to upset him, after he had taken such a long time to become something like himself again. But he was still not right, even after seven, eight months. He had looked up human parental grief, of course, but even they seemed to grieve for inordinately long amounts of time, measured against their short lifetimes. How long would an Angel grieve for? Would he ever be right again? Humans had mourned themselves to death. At least Aziraphale seemed to have a good grasp of things that kept him living.  
"I just want my angel back." he murmured, "My beautiful, stupid, brilliant, bastard of an angel. The angel I married. Please?" 

*

The next day dawned bright and calm, with the perfect updraft. Aziraphale narrowed his eyes at the sky.  
"See? Perfect." Crowley grinned.  
"Yes. It is." The angel nodded, "Strange."  
"The wind must have blown the rain away." Crowley chuckled, kicking at a fallen branch, "It's perfect weather, Angel! I'll call Harriet."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huh. I apologise that these chapters seem quite short, I've forgotten what count I used in previous stories to work out where to place the chapter markers. If they're all going to be short I might do 3 chapters a week instead of 2.


	5. Chapter 5

The twins trembled with trepidation as they stood facing their parents. Aziraphale took a little pleasure from stretching his shoulders and neck as he released his wings, a handful of fluffy feathers scattering as he did. Crowley raised an eyebrow, "No wonder you made me teach the girls how to preen."   
"You can do them later, if you're so inclined." was the clipped reply. Crowley chuckled, "I'll hold you to that."   
Crowley released his own wings a moment later, smooth and silky as usual. Next to Crowley, Aziraphale seemed to note exactly how much of a state his own were in, "Maybe we should do this later..."  
Ariel caught his hand as he turned, "No, please Daddy?"  
The angel glanced at the girl a moment before smiling thinly, "I'm sorry dear. Of course, this is your day. Silly of me to worry about the state of myself!"   
"Right, well." Crowley said, "First thing you want is some lift, so spread your wings wide and push the air downwards." He demonstrated with very little effort. The girls' eyes widened and they gasped appreciatively as he hovered, slouching somehow on his back in the air, wings flapping downwards slowly.   
"Of course you have to learn to bend reality a bit to be this cool." He chuckled. Alice snorted, "You're not cool, dad."   
"!!" Crowley's breath caught, "I-I'll have you know I am highly regarded in all the coolest places."   
Aziraphale chuckled loudly. Crowley paused, "What would you know, Angel? Hundreds of years in the same clothes, you never changed them until you had the girls!"  
Aziraphale gave one flap of his wings and held position beside Crowley, twirling below him and circling to hover above, "Dear, you are the little demon who tried too hard." He took his hand and smiled warmly. Crowley felt a wonderful flicker in his heart looking in his angel's eyes. He tried to hide his grin, "Like you'd know."   
"Nobody knows you better, and you know it."   
"Hey Dads! Stop flirting and teach us!" Alice called. At her side, Ariel was furiously flapping downwards, her wings out of sync. Crowley slid forwards and downwards, gripping the girl's hands to give her some lift, "Come on Ri, that's the idea. Both together."  
Aziraphale wasn't far behind him, taking Alice's hands, "Come on now dear, flap your wings, angle them down a little, that's it. Don't worry! I've got you. They look a state but they're fully capable."   
"Daddy I'm too heavy for-" Alice squeaked, "Oh!"   
"You're not. Honestly." Aziraphale told her sadly, "You just need to build up your strength." He pulled the girl up to his chest to hold her close, "Keep flapping."  
"Y-Yes Daddy." Alice managed, wrapping her arms around his neck as she peered down, "How high are we?"  
"Not very." He replied, "Look, Ariel is doing her best too."   
Alice glanced left. Her sister was still trying to get her wings to flap in unison. Crowley held the girl closely, a similar distance from the ground.  
"You make us so proud." Aziraphale told her, "You all do. You're amazing."  
The girls tried their best, but tired easily.   
"This is harder than swimming." Alice sulked as Aziraphale went to the house for refreshments.   
Crowley snorted, "And how do you get better at swimming? With practise. Don't expect to be perfect at things just because you're a little smartie."  
Aziraphale meandered through the French doors into the kitchen, humming happily. The girls were so wonderful, so brilliant, they would be so happy to fly, and he was so proud of every growth landmark they hit...   
He stopped dead. His smile faded.   
They hit them so fast though. They grew at the rate of humans. Humans, those wonderful lives that he had avoided getting close to as best he could, because they aged, and died, and...   
Were the girls as immortal as they were? Or would he be forced to distance himself from them, too?   
His hands went to his waistcoat, rubbing the familiar material anxiously.   
"You took the last one from me... Were you preparing me to lose them all?" He asked, "After all, the children can get sick, which we can't... Are they mortal? Will we... Have to say goodbye to them?"   
His hands were shaking now, and he clasped them together close to his mouth, rocking slightly as he stared into space.   
"I can't - not again."   
"Hey, Azira-" Crowley paused at the door at the angel's expression, "Angel? Angel what's-"  
Aziraphale was shaking visibly as he turned his head to greet his husband. His eyes flashed in the light briefly as he made to meet his eyes, but they never got there, "N-Nothing. It's nothing. I'm just... being ridiculous." He made to pick some glasses from the cupboard but Crowley gripped his wrist gently, "You're going to drop those. Let me."  
The demon put four glasses onto a tray, and went to the fridge for the iced tea he'd made up that morning. He glanced as he did to the pair of champagne flutes that were full as ever, "Here, you need some Dutch courage?"   
"No- No really, Crowley. Alcohol is a depressant and I-I'm not sure I need..." He paused, "And If I let go of one of the girls, I will never forgive myself!"  
He finally met the demon's eyes. Crowley was horrified at the tears there, "Angel, Angel, I-" He put the jug down on the tray and moved to him. Aziraphale backed off a little at first, and Crowley stopped, "Angel?"  
"I- I can't-" The Angel sank to the floor, burying his head in his hands. Crowley knelt to his level, "Angel I'm so sorry, I should have noticed, you were doing so well, I'm sorry-"  
Aziraphale shook his head. Crowley made to withdraw his hand, thinking it a rejection (And why wouldn't it be when he'd pushed his angel into this?) but Aziraphale grabbed his wrist.   
"I'm sorry." He murmured.   
Crowley glanced over his shoulder at the chatter that approached the door. The girls fell silent at the scene before them though. Crowley called over to them, "Tea's on the side, pour yourselves some will you? Your dad just needs a minute."  
After they had gone back outside, Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale, "Breathe, Angel, it might help." he whispered, "Please, just breathe. Calm, deep breaths. Like that, yeah. You're doing so well. So well." he kept chattering gently, "Sssso well."   
He bit his tongue at his hiss. Letting Aziraphale know he was upset wouldn't help, so he just clung to his husband. Aziraphale sniffled for about twenty minutes before his grip on Crowley loosened.   
"Hey." the demon nosed at his husband's cheek, "Any better?"  
Aziraphale choked a sob, "I'm sorry-"  
"No, it's okay Angel don't be, sssshould have had a break sssooner-"  
Aziraphale gave Crowley's shoulders a squeeze.  
"I - I just-"  
He paused, sniffling more, "We-we lost one already, will we lose the others?"  
Crowley felt cold.   
"Lose..?" He shook his head, "No Angel, we can't think that way-"  
"They get sick, and they grow, and..."   
"Aziraphale." Crowley shushed him, "Angel... We can't do anything about it. They're here, and they need us now. And if - heaven, hell and earth forbid - they are... mortal." He swallowed, "We should give them the best lives they can possibly lead. Right?"  
Aziraphale hiccupped, unable to meet Crowley's eyes. The demon parted his husband's legs to sit as closely as possible, before holding him tightly again, "We can't think about that. It's too early to tell yet. We have to just do our best - t-to give them good lives - to make sure we're the best we can be for them. Whatever they are."   
Some time later, the twins were finishing their drinks at the patio table when their dads returned. They were pleasantly surprised that it was both of them, even though Aziraphale's eyes were still red.   
"Daddy!" Ariel beamed, reaching to hold his hand. He gladly took hers, stroking his thumb over her knuckles in a manner that was soothing to both of them.   
"Well, we had to finish your lesson." He told them gently as he sat with them.


	6. Chapter 6

Newt concentrated. Jennet's needs and signals were not second nature yet, but they had already whittled it down to 4 things - food, nappy, sleep or comfort. She wasn't crying out of turn and had indeed slept most of the night once she was fed.   
He was a little bothered that she could already focus on his face - she gazed at him as she sucked the life out of her bottle, nothing but adoration there. When she was finished he held her on his shoulder to burp her, and found himself hugging her gently to him.   
"I can't hurt you." He managed, "I mustn't! You're too precious a gift..."  
He fumbled when Anathema appeared suddenly in her coat in the doorway. The woman's eyes widened, "Don't drop her."   
"I wasn't - you startled me - are you going out?"  
"Deirdre Young has some babygrows from when her children were born." the witch explained, "We have a few but babies get through clothes like nobody's business, I mean you saw Aziraphale and Crowley's cottage when the twins were born, there were almost as many baby clothes as books in that house - and Alexas seemed to get through as many by himself!"  
Jennet gurgled, hiccupped and then gave a mighty burp. Seemingly satisfied, she dribbled down the back of Newt's neck for good measure before snuggling against his collar.  
"What do I do with-"  
"Come on Newt, she's fed and burped, put her in the basket, she'll be fine until her nappy needs changing."   
"I still feel like she's... watching me."   
"Prop up the basket and let her watch you then!" Anathema chuckled, "Honestly she's taking a lot in for a newborn, probably for the same reasons Alice, Ariel and Alexas did. She'll probably welcome the stimulation to her brain. Deirdre did say there was a bouncy chair somewhere in her attic too - if she's found that out it could be handy until she's old enough for a high chair."  
"Okay." Newt managed. Anathema smiled rather more warmly this time, "Newt, you're not going to break her."   
"How can you be so sure?!"  
"Because Agnes wouldn't have been half so fond of you if she'd foreseen that." she chuckled, "Where's your big rucksack, by the way?"

*

About 2 hours later, a nervous Anathema stood on the doorstep of the familiar cottage, ringing the doorbell. She knew it wasn't a brilliant day to be here when she felt the press of an unholy mind against hers, and the door clicked open by itself.   
"In here." Crowley called as she shut it behind her.   
"You alright?" She called back, hanging her coat on a hook before entering. Crowley was lounging on the sofa, phone in one hand and TV remote in the other. His glasses were balanced atop his head - long haired today apparently - and he was wearing a plunged neck top which would have left little to the imagination were he wearing female form.   
"It's a self care day, is it?" She hazarded a guess.  
"Something like that." Crowley mumbled, "Angel had another breakdown yesterday."  
Anathema sighed, "I'm sorry for intruding. I didn't know."   
"Course you didn't." Crowley snorted, "I don't go around telling everyone."  
"Just random Occultists you let into your house." She replied. Crowley finally cracked a smile, "Alright book girl, what do you want?" He stretched his arms out, and she noted his perfect, long black nails. Perfect except the chewed cuticles, maybe.  
"Well, we have a bit of a situation and I wondered if you had any old... babygrows. That we could borrow?"  
Crowley pulled a strange face as he finally turned his head towards her, "No offence Winnie the witch but it's still hardly the topic of conversation here."  
"I know. Yours would have been due, wouldn't it?" She paused, "I wouldn't have come to ask if it wasn't fairly urgent."  
"Oh, your kind take forever to grow a baby, there's no urgency there-" He paused, "You're not..?"  
"No!" Anathema paused, "I - well. We had a visitor. From above. With a basket and a clipboard."  
"Crowley stared at her, "Wow. I'm not telling Aziraphale that."   
"No, definitely not if he's delicate." she replied, "But she was... prophesised."  
"Huh, kept that one to yourself."  
"No I... may have mistranslated. Newt wasn't impressed."  
Crowley raised an eyebrow, "And what's he got to mope about? A child should be a 'joyous occasion' should it not? And without all that messy business... and the risks..." the demon tailed off. Anathema reached out to pat his hand where it rested behind him over the arm of the sofa, "I know. He was very interested until we found out that it... she... was a baby. Not a puppy."  
Crowley's eyes went wide, and he paused a moment before beginning to roar with laughter, "A puppy!! Heaven and Hell, a divine puppy!"  
"Crowley..." She rolled her eyes, "So we-"  
"Wait. You're both human."  
"Last time I checked, yes."  
"So you couldn't. You know. Have a puppy?"  
"Crowley please stop with the questions and listen to me-"  
"Can't help that, Questions are my thing. Questions as an angel, Questions made me fall, Questions through my demonhood. Questions."  
"I see." Anathema rolled her eyes, "Listen. Serious now. I wasn't going to do this - come to you both, knowing what you've been through - Except we didn't know what size she was when she arrived, so Newt just had to buy a few of each size of everything. So she's only got a few clothes and nappies. Deirdre offered me some, which I gladly accepted, but they're hand me downs from Adams sister, who had them as hand me downs from her Aunt, so they're all 1970s originals, covered in Miss piggy and a bit... well, not living up to the British standards board these days." She paused, "So I wondered if you had... kept anything... we could borrow?"  
"Kept anything?!" Crowley chuckled, "As if Angel could bring himself to give any of it away! It belongs to the girls, he says, yeah yeah, in reality-" He raised his voice, "I chose to live out my thousands of years with a beautiful damn hoarder!" His voice was cheerful as he said it, in contrast to his teasing, but there was no reply from the library.   
"Nothing he'd want to part with then." Anathema assumed. Crowley waved his hand in a devil-may-care manner, "Leave it with me. Few days maybe."  
"You're very k-" Anathema checked herself, "Thank you, Crowley. If you're sure it won't be any trouble?"  
"As if Angel would ever see your child wanting." the demon deflected her thanks, "What did you call the little heaven sent?"  
"Er. The book said... Jennet."  
"Jennet, eh. Nice name. Think Agnes is having a laugh at you both though."  
"Hm?"  
"Jennet Device. Name of a brat adopted by the cousin of the landowner around the time the Device family were tried and executed for witchcraft in Lancashire."   
Anathema rolled her eyes, "I think you'll find that's a 20th century novel that's mostly fiction."   
"Read it have you?" Crowley chuckled.   
"You have to be well read to carry the prophecies." the witch replied.   
Crowley waved his hand, settling back into his cushions. He was tired, and obviously bored of teasing. She shook her head, "Thank you anyway. Let us know when we can pick them up. We won't bring her in, if it's okay. Just because, well..."  
"You think I'll be able to stop Angel from fawning over a little baby - possibly an angelic baby - when I have to explain to him why I want to give up our first born's precious first clothes?"  
Anathema paused, "Call us and let us know how he is."  
Crowley snorted, "Will do. Talk later."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mist over Pendle is the book Crowley refers to. I read it at school and absolutely loved it. Might not like it these days, but I'm not going back to ruin that memory.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter was too short and the world's gone to pot. Have a bit more fic to brighten your Monday.

"A baby. From above."  
"Well, we don't know that. I think Anathema would like us to take a look at her - eventually I mean, when you feel up to it..." Crowley frowned, "Angel you feel cold."  
"You're telling me, dear." Aziraphale managed. He sighed, "The lord giveth, and the lord taketh away."  
"Angel..." Crowley soothed. She was sitting in her husband's lap at the library desk, legs and arms wrapped around his torso, rubbing little circles into his tense shoulders, "Can we just - Ngk - Listen she wouldn't have told us yet, and I wouldn't have told you yet - but for one thing."  
"What's that?" Aziraphale's voice sounded strained.  
"They're in desperate need of baby clothes."  
"Oh." Aziraphale blinked, "We must have some somewhere. And the bouncer, the beanbag... Lex's carseat..."  
Crowley wished she could smile at the offer. She had expected resistance, but as there was none, it meant her angel was trying to ignore his grief and shuffle away the things he felt he didn't want around to remind him. Angels were so stubborn, she decided.  
"Angel." She murmured, "I want to go through the things with you. And keep a few. The special things. Their first clothes, that devil outfit I swear your ass of a boss sent us for Puck, those darling dresses the girls wore to Anathema and Newt's wedding."  
Aziraphale met his eyes uncertainly, "But what use..?"  
"Memories, Angel." the demon purred, "Memories you don't want right now but will regret handing over later. And the girls might have something to say about it later, too..."  
"Alright." Aziraphale agreed. Crowley clicked her fingers and several large boxes found themselves shifted from the loft to the library all of a sudden. Dust drifted through the air in the beams of sunlight that streamed through the windows at the desk end of the room.  
Aziraphale coughed.  
"We should do this before we have to fetch the children."  
"We should. Thank you Angel."  
"I would not want any child to go without. Let alone one given to Anathema and Newt to raise."  
Crowley grinned widely, "I love you Angel, you know that."  
A small smile, "I know dear." 

* 

The evening was spent quietly after the stressful afternoon. They had sorted boxes of clothes and useful items out, returned the rest to the attic, fetched the children together, and sat down to tea quietly enough. The children were careful too; the twins had already learnt that sometimes their Daddy wasn't up to shenanigans, and with nobody to bounce his hyperactivity off, Alexas soon fell into a sullen silence as he played with his mashed potatoes.  
After tea, Crowley took the children to the living room while Aziraphale holed up in his library with some of his favourites. Self care, he told himself. Nothing to do with not really wanting to face the children right now.  
The youngsters were on their way to bed, Alexas insistent on making as much noise as possible by stomping on every step, when there was a knock at the door. At the back of the train climbing the stairs, Crowley groaned, "Now who in Heaven's name is that?" He turned to the children, "Go and get your teeth brushed."  
"Yes dad." They chorused, but crept instead to the banisters to see. Small hands gripped the bars, and blue and gold eyes peered through, faces pressed close to try and see the hallway from where they were.  
"Took you long enough, zzznake." Beelzebub said, stepping into the hallway before Crowley could complain. They were carrying a basket, and a moment later the basket began to cry.  
Beelzebub eyed the older children warily, glaring at them before turning their attention to Crowley. At that moment Aziraphale's library door opened, and the angel barrelled into the hall, "Who has done what now?"  
He gazed from the children on the stairs, to the Prince of hell and his screaming basket, "What in the name of..?"  
Beelzebub bristled in wide eyed concern, "I could zzzay the zzame, what izz your energy doing?!"  
Aziraphale's eyes widened and he ducked back into his room, shutting the door behind him but staying close inside.  
"Kids. Bed." Crowley commanded. The twins hurried upstairs, only Alexas waiting a moment longer before his father's eyes caught him and he seemingly did as he was told.  
"Crowley." Beelzebub managed somehow quietly over the sound of screaming, "What did you do to that angel?"  
Crowley stared at him impassively, "Whatever you're referring to - I didn't. It wasn't our fault her above saw fit to take our Fledgeling for herself!"  
The Prince stared, "Yourzz was taken? Thiz does not make sense, Hasturzz waz taken by itzz angel parent, but both of you are here."  
Crowley deflated, already sick of trying to explain. Alexas, unable to not be nosy for five minutes, patted Beelzebub's arm through the stair rails, "The baby died, fly head demon. Daddy was sad. He better, but he burning up blue fire-"  
"Puck, please. That's the Prince of Hell." Crowley didn't seem to have heard the boy properly. Beelzebub frowned, "Blue flames?"  
"Just leave us alone." Crowley managed, "We've had enough infant visitorssss." He spun and pointed at the boy on the stairs, "Puck. I won't tell you again. BED."  
"I require azziztance." Beelzebub said without waiting for the boy to leave.  
"Your holier than thou dickhead had the report."  
"The archangel will have nothing to do with Luzzien."  
Crowley paused. Behind the study door, Aziraphale's eyes widened.  
"He... he's a deadbeat mum?" Crowley managed.  
The study door opened more slowly this time, "What... do you need to know?" Aziraphale asked through the gap.


	8. Chapter 8

"What is this? Tadfield used to be quietly out of the way, now its the supernatural equivalent of Spaghetti Junction!" Crowley exclaimed.  
"Dear, wasn't that Junction your idea?" Aziraphale asked, as he adjusted Beelzebub's hold on the infant.  
"Oh, so our house becoming a drop in centre was MY fault?!"  
Aziraphale ignored him, "There we go. Lucien, what a pretty name."  
"Pretty tongue in cheek, maybe." Crowley snorted, "Lucien, Lucifer..?"  
"I wazz not given the benefit of a zzecond opinion."  
"I... I thought maybe..." Aziraphale started, but his gaze unfocussed and he dropped his eyes. Crowley waited for the rest of the sentence, but it didn't come, "Angel?"  
"It doesn't matter. Just. I liked Audrey. Or Angelo."  
"What you like doezz not matter-" Beelzebub started. Crowley hissed involuntarily, "For the baby we lost, you ass-"  
"Crowley, please." Aziraphale's anxiety rose at the flash of anger in the Prince's eyes, but they shrugged a moment later, "I require azzizztance, I will have to take the abuzze. Do not forget who I am though, Crowley."  
Held back by Aziraphale's soft hands, Crowley relaxed a little, "Sure. Fine. But you upset my husband-"  
Lucien let go of the teat of the bottle, and burped loudly. Beelzebub stared at them, "I do not underzztand their language."  
"You have to teach them to speak." Aziraphale explained.  
"Thiz will take a while, he seems remarkabley zztupid for a zelestial."  
"No, he's just." The angel smiled, "Just a tiny infant being. He has to grow up and learn." He offered his arms and the boy was gladly handed over. Aziraphale hummed gently, lifting the boy in the air before bringing him down to pat his back. Lucien giggled as his flailing foot caught the angel's ear.  
Aziraphale chuckled sadly, "You're a very sweet little boy aren't you? So spirited." He tried not to mention the vivid hue of his purple eyes, concentrating instead on the warm weight against his shoulder, and the smell of baby. He cooed gently at the boy, wiggling a little at the waves of joy he was producing.  
Crowley tried not to pay attention. It was bad enough that Aziraphale had to hurt, without bringing up those feelings within himself too. The last thing he needed was those feelings when Beelzebub was around.  
"What elssse do you need to know?" He grumbled to distract himself, "You can't just yell at them to Grow Better, they aren't pot plants!"  
Aziraphale winced at the memory that brought back.

  
*

Beelzebub didn't stay the night, but they did stay until the early hours. The husbands went outside to see the two off, and Aziraphale gasped, "You can't have a baby loose in the car! What if you stop suddenly!?"  
The prince stared at Lucien, "He will be fine." They put the boy into an odd, foam and fabric box in the passenger seat of the jet black smart car. Crowley tensed, "You're carrying your son around in a dog seat?"  
"It wazz all I could borrow at zzhort notice."  
"You need a car seat." Aziraphale added, "A size 1, they sell them at big supermarkets now."  
"Thank you for the azziztance." The prince replied, before getting into their side of the car and driving away. Crowley noted with amusement there was ancient demonic text on the bumper sticker, which basically translated to, "Live destruction and never get on his bad side."  
The demon rubbed his chin absently, "Meh. That was a thing."  
Aziraphale twisted his hands nervously together, and went back indoors.  
"'Ziraphale?" Crowley called as he followed, watching him bustle down the hallway like the old caretaker of books he was these days.  
"Mm?" He paused, a hand at his chest. Distantly he felt as though somebody had rammed a shard of ice into the heart he didn't really have (Well, not all the time)  
"You alright?"  
"Scared stiff for that poor child." The angel was looking for something on the shelf by the telephone, "Ah-ha."  
Crowley gazed at the Argos catalogue, "Angel, I can get that on my phone."  
"Well, I prefer to use this."  
"It's probably out of date."  
"We can get ideas from it!"  
"Ideas? Ideas of what? Angel frivolous miracles are one thing but that's the Prince of bloody hell, they can do it themselves."  
Aziraphale gave Crowley a look of thunder, "Not one thing about that demon incites trust that they know what they're doing with that child."  
Crowley raised an eyebrow, and sighed, "Alright, alright, but I'm limiting it to a car seat and clothes, and where do we send them?"  
"Oh, that should be easy enough." Aziraphale replied, "These delivery folk, they know where to go these days. Very clever, knowing all those roads..."  
"I believe it's called a Sat-nav, Angel..."


	9. Chapter 9

The next day seemed peaceful enough. The kids went to school, their exhausted parents went to bed, a few boxes of baby clothes magically appeared in Anathema and Newt's living room, and for a few hours everything was calm.

Aziraphale awoke at lunchtime, hankering for crepes and wondering if it would be too cruel to wake Crowley and ask him to whip up a batch. Luckily Crowley wasn't far behind him, "Angel, you moved."

"Apologies dear." his stomach growled its own response. Crowley snorted, "Okay, okay. Give me 5 to wake up."

The day was actually quite a good one, the demon thought that afternoon as he cuddled up to his husband, crepes made and devoured with love and half an hour to go before they had to get the children. Despite the stress of yesterday, they were both handling it all rather well.

"I don't fancy cooking again so soon." he murmured, "Not even hungry."

"Chip shop for the children?" Aziraphale suggested, eyes closed blissfully and soft chest perfect for a snake demon to rest his head on.

"Deal..." Crowley drawled, "It'll keep them quiet a bit."

The children even sort-of behaved that evening, happy with their chips (even if Alexas's demand for cherryade made for a terse screaming fit with Alice - Every time, Crowley sighed, every time Aziraphale warned him off miracling the panda pops into their 90s mixture. Every time he didn't listen. Every time, Alexas was hyperactive.)

"It's only E numbers, Angel." Crowley had chuckled, "A bit of hyperactivity is healthy."

"Not when it's less than an hour to bedtime, _dear_." Aziraphale snarked.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door, and as Crowley had a lap full of screaming 5 year old, Aziraphale went to answer it.

He was in for a shock.

"Michael?"

"Aziraphale." She nodded.

"Did you want to come in?" He stepped aside. She was staring at him, hard. Then she shrugged it off, "Please."

They went to the living room, the better for Aziraphale to note to Crowley that somebody else potentially dangerous was about. The demon pulled a face, "What do you want?"

Michael looked from him to the twins, and noticed the blonde boy in the middle, "I see you have a new face."

"Yes, you met him at the wedding." Aziraphale replied hurriedly, "Alexas, this is Michael the archangel."

Alexas stood up to see over his sister's shoulders, "Hi! You're from heaven? Can you tell me if my-"

"No, Lex." Crowley grabbed his shoulder with a warning growl, "We've talked about this. Don't keep talking about the baby."

"Baby?" Michael glanced at Aziraphale curiously, "Is that what you've done to yourself?"

"What I've-? No!" Aziraphale cried, before remembering who he stood before. He paused, dropping his eyes, "There's not a baby. It died."

Michael tilted her head, "I'm not surprised, with that mess of an aura. What has happened to you? Is it because of him? Is this what being joined with demons does to us?"

Crowley growled again. The children had gone quiet, feeling the emotions of the room bristling.

Aziraphale sighed, moving to stand between the Archangel and his husband. When he raised his head, Crowley couldn't see his face. Whatever expression he wore though, Michael took a step back, eyes wide, "Right. Okay."

"Why are you here?" Aziraphale asked, his voice measured and strangely flat.

"Have you seen Gabriel?"

"No, we haven't." The angel replied, almost matching his husband's growl.

"Well, if you do, let us know." Michael backed away and paused, "You can still work a communication ring, I suppose?"

"I can draw the runes, that's all I need." Aziraphale snapped. Crowley made to stand, but Michael waved him back, "I'm leaving. Gabriel is not allowed to abandon his child, and he will be in serious trouble if he doesn't return to it."

She left. Crowley moved to Aziraphale, "You okay? You scared her, that was amazing, you actually scared the Archangel Michael!" he chuckled, but Aziraphale's eyes were dark when he looked back to him, deathly serious, "She's as bad as the other Archangels for bullying and walking over underlings." He growled.

Crowley tilted his head uncertainly. Aziraphale blinked at him, "What's wrong?"

"Just worried about you... yeeting your faith out of a window."

"'Yeeting? my-?"

"You sure you want to turn your back on her upstairs?"

Aziraphale bristled a little, his mouth twisting crossly, "Let me sort myself out on my own." He hissed, "You once tried but couldn't tell me how it feels to fall. I can't explain this any more than you could explain that." He left the room, closing the library door behind him.

Crowley exhaled, visibly shaken. Behind him, Alexas asked, "Dad? Are Daddy's wings made of ice cubes?"

The demon blinked as the question filtered through, "Lex, what-" He glanced to where Ariel was sketching. Sure enough the drawing of her daddy appeared to have glass or ice wings, with tendrils hooking over his shoulders and around his neck.

Crowley felt a shiver pass through him, "Okay kids. Pack your things away, I think it's time for hot chocolate and bed."

"Dad it's barely 7.30!" Alice protested.

"High time you were lost in dreamland." The demon replied, "Finish what you're doing and start to tidy up, come on. I'll make your drinks."


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is where the real self harm begins.

Aziraphale was bristling with a rage he was quite unused to. He emptied his shelf of religious texts far more roughly than usual, piling them on a spare desk with a view to removing them from his life entirely. The bookworm, hoarder, sane part of him chided him and metaphysically slapped his face.

"What am I thinking?" He managed. He sank to his knees in an undignified heap, becoming aware as he dared to open up to his true form of the creeping cold at the edges, the burning of ice in his eyes and feathers and heart.

_Was this -?_

It hurt, God it hurt, but it wasn't like burning. More like becoming painfully numb, like feeling the creep of ice into your bones. He made it to the floor properly, drawing his legs up a little to lean forward, protecting his core, where his remaining warmth burned.

"Am I..?" He managed, "Is this falling?"

He was certain he heard the crackle of ice at his collarbone as he rocked gently, trying to break through the mind numbing pain.

He had no idea of the passage of time, but at a knock at the door he rose, feeling shaky and completely numb, and made his way to the desk. He didn't hear Crowley murmuring to him, didn't smell the hot chocolate he put down on the desk, didn't speak, stared numbly into his book as if the words he couldn't even focus on held all the answers, and didn't go to bed with his husband. He knew that was where he was going, from the kiss on the cheek and the hot drink.

When the door shut behind Crowley, he pushed the chair out a little and reached for the drink. He was so cold, something had to-

The hot chocolate burned his throat. He kept drinking until it was gone. His tongue was definitely scalded, but that pain wasn't detracting from the rest. He laid his head on the desk.

"Can't worry you, love." He murmured. Alone, he ought to be able to work through the pain, right?

He was working so hard to keep himself quiet that it wasn't until morning that he found he had fallen asleep at his desk. Crowley greeted him with a cup of tea. He stared at it, his tongue prickling with last nights chugging.

His neck felt raw inside and out. He glanced down and saw a damp patch on his knee where he had evidently dribbled in his sleep. The angel reached to wipe his face with a hand and found his neck cold. He felt sick. The cold and numbness looped his throat and draped itself down his chest to his corporation's heart.

"Angel? Are you alright? You look terrible." Crowley's voice finally broke through.

"I should have joined you last night." Aziraphale replied, but it sounded hollow somehow.

"I told you all those kids were too much." the demon replied, "We've got to set you some limits. And as for Michael! The cheek of that bloody Archangel. Listen, please listen to me, I'll take the kids to school and when I get back I expect to find you in bed."

"Thank you dear." Aziraphale managed, without looking at Crowley.

The tea tasted of nothing right now. It barely even felt warm, though he could see the steam rising off it. He supposed the same had been true of the hot chocolate. This time his tongue hurt, badly, and he was relieved to feel anything. He slowly, shakily stood up when he heard the front door shut and the Bentley start on the drive.

He didn't dare look inside himself. Crowley hadn't commented apart from looking awful, so he couldn't be demonic. Maybe he couldn't fall, he hadn't been angelic for years.

Could he?

He shrugged it off and focussed back on that warm little spark in his core.

He swigged his tea and pulled a face.

"There's sugar in this."

Maybe he wasn't quite as lost as he thought, if he knew bad tea. Still. That freezing numbness at his neck was a bizarre reminder that maybe he was changing. Maybe he would fall. But he was teetering on the edge, gazing into the precipice.

Would it matter anymore if he did?

*

Aziraphale had at least made it to bed by the time Crowley got back, though more to avoid scrutiny than anything else. His husband slipped into the covers and cuddled at the back of his head.

"Mm?!" The angel managed.

"Glad to see you taking care of yourself. I was worried, you were giving off some seriously strange vibes last night. You sure you're alright?"

"M'fine." Aziraphale mumbled, "I just needed to be alone."

"Oh." Crowley sounded crestfallen, "Do you mind if I-?"

Aziraphale softened. Poor Crowley. He had overreacted again and his husband was holding the family together. Again. He rolled over to face him, though kept his head under the Serpent's chin so as not to make eye contact, "Please do, my dear."

Crowley smiled, and huddled up close under the blanket with a contented sigh. He squeezed him gently. Aziraphale wrapped his arms around him in return, but he knew it wasn't his usual needing comfort hug. This was contact alone, and faking it for the sake of not worrying Crowley.

The icy feeling at his throat was starting to irritate him, sending little shots of pain down his nerves. He had half a mind to click away his nerve endings entirely but that would surely look more suspicious. At length though, Aziraphale's grip tightened in pain, and Crowley could no longer disguise the pressured squeeze he was in the middle of. He let his discomfort escape with a low hiss.

"Hey Angel, I'm the snake here."

The angels hug vanished like a bear trap in reverse, allowing the demon to prop himself up on one elbow.

"Sorry" they said in unison, surprising each other.

"This has gone on long enough." they both managed, before Crowley placed a finger to the angel's lips. Aziraphale finally raised his eyes to meet his husbands. His face was drawn; he looked exhausted. Aziraphale supposed his heart would be breaking if it didn't feel as though it was frozen in place.

"I know you have to grieve, I know this hasss affected you beyond the mortal realm." Crowley managed, "But that's where I am right now. With our family. It's been... well its been over six months and I can't..." Crowley dropped his line of sight, "I can't cheer you up for a whole 24 hours." he kissed at his husband's forehead gently, "Please, please get better, we miss you. I miss you."

Aziraphale's useless breath caught in his throat. His voice cracked, "Oh Crowley, if this were the sort of malaise one could miracle away it would have worked the first time you tried it."

"What? Me, use the power cosmic to make my husssband happy?" His front was up again, trying to use humour to escape this conversation. This serious damn conversation. Aziraphale sighed, "To make me normal, whatever that is now."

"I don't use miracles for that." Crowley managed, "Maybe thatss where I'm going wrong."

Aziraphale was silent.

Crowley reached out again across the gulf between them, despite the pain between their auras. He rested his hand on his husband's cheek, sliding it to his collerbone, "Angel-" He paused, "You're freezing."

Aziraphale rolled away from him, "I'm sorry dear." He got out of bed and pulled the storage drawer out of it. Removing a blanket and taking his pillow, he glanced back at the demon sadly, "I think maybe I'm no comfort to you, or anybody, anymore. I should get some sleep."

Crowley lay still, listening to the footsteps pause on the landing, "Angel?"

Decision made, Aziraphale headed for the empty bedroom in the extension. The one that - Crowley bit back tears - would have been for their lost one.

"Angel..."

He wrapped his arms around his head with a strangled cry, a smattering of black and red scales flicking into being around his arms and shoulders as he sobbed into his pillow.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The song is Drift away, from the Steven Universe movie (and the title of this piece) but Crowley has... adjusted it.

Aziraphale woke around 8 in the evening. There was no noise. The house was silent, and dark. What had woken him..?

Then there was a clatter from above, the sound of a tile breaking on the floor below. Aziraphale rose. What in the world?

_"Here in our Eden_   
_Let's play a game_   
_I'll show you how it's done_   
_Here we go now..._   
_Stand very still_   
_This will be so much fun..."_

The voice was one he knew well. Roughened by falling, but still with musical sense and feeling. But the slurring... He pushed the crib to one side and threw open the window.

_"And then he smiled_   
_That's what I'm after_   
_Crinkles round eyes_   
_A chuckle of laughter_   
_Happily listening_   
_(Stubborn bastard)_   
_Happily watching him drift away..."_

Crowley coughed with the effort of pouring his sulphur burned corporeal lungs into what he was doing. Leaning out, Aziraphale couldn't see him, and was seized with a sudden fear for his safety. He glanced down at the broken tile and a bottle from the store, and turned to run downstairs.

_"And I'm left waiting_  
 _All on my own_  
 _Under the endless sky..."_ Crowley's voice cracked as he reached skyward. He was lying flat on his back, a leg either side of the peak of the cottage's roof,   
_"Counting the seconds_  
 _Standing alone_  
 _Counting the years go by..._

_Always left wondering_   
_Night after night_   
_Is this how love works?_   
_Am I doing it right?_   
_Struggling to listen_   
_Holding the kids_   
_Standing here watching him drift away..."_

Aziraphale peered up at the roof, "Crowley?"

_"You keep on pulling heartstrings for people who can't care_   
_People who can't share it with you_   
_And still, it takes you ages to see he can't be there_   
_See that he's not there_

_See that he's not there_   
_See he's just regressed without you.."_

"Crowley?" Aziraphale landed gently on the roof, his tatty wings flapping irregularly. They hurt to withdraw from their hidden space, and he dared not look at them. He clambered to the top uncertainly, leaning over his husband as the pained singing descended into cracking, broken whispers,

_"Finally something..._   
_Finally breaks_   
_Within your fractured soul..."_

Crowley was staring right up at him. Aziraphale wasn't sure he even saw him. He was concerned about the creeping scales on his husband's cheeks, the way his nails dug in, needle sharp like claws as he reached to grab his hand,   
_"Your love can't exist now..._  
 _Survived by the kids_  
 _And all of the lord's new plans."_

"Crowley." Aziraphale managed, "You need to come in, dear. Please."

The singing paused. Crowley screwed up his face and allowed himself to be pulled into Aziraphale's arms. The angel landed gently, cradling his husband, before Crowley's hands found his face and he finished,

_"Isn't that lovely?_   
_Isn't that cool?_   
_And isn't that cruel?_   
_And aren't I a fool... to be_   
_Watching him do this_   
_Feeling us change_   
_Happily watching him drift..._   
_Drift..._   
_Drift... away."_

Aziraphale couldn't reply for some moments. It was only when Crowley began to shake in his arms that he came to, getting them both inside and his husband tucked into bed. There was only one broken bottle outside. This wasn't drunken Crowley. This was despair.

"Angel..." the demon murmured.

"I'm sorry. You've every reason to feel that way." Aziraphale managed, before turning tail and going back to the other bedroom.

*

The next day was Saturday, not that either of them knew it. Aziraphale was chewing his way through a bowl of cereal as though it had no flavour (Given his palette, it probably didn't) at the kitchen table when Crowley came downstairs and flipped the kettle on.

It was quiet for some time. Crowley sat at the end of the table, nursing his coffee and staring at the dirt he had got under his nails climbing on the roof. When he had finished, he deposited the mug in the sink. Aziraphale was still playing with his breakfast, so the demon made to leave.

"Crowley-" The angel called after him.

"Just goin'to get the kidsss." was the reply, "Harriet picked them up when we didn't ssshow up."

Aziraphale's mouth dropped open, "The children!"

Crowley didn't reply. He felt drained. All of his effort had gone into drawing his scales back inside this morning. He drove under the speed limit to Tadfield, annoying as many people as possible by creating a traffic queue with nowhere to overtake safely.

Harriet was upon him as soon as his group of angry followers passed by, "What in God's name happened to you?"

"Sorry." He managed, "Me an'Angel had a fight. Wasn't really with it."

"What sort of a fight?!" the woman demanded, "I mean, nobody contacted anybody, the school rang you, I rang you, Anathema rang you and Azira, I know things have been hard for you both but-"

"But they're here, Harriet. I know." He swayed a little, the world shifting around him.

She frowned, "Are you--?! You have to be kidding me if you think I'm letting you drive your kids home when you've been drinking!"

"Was only a bottle last night."

Harriet guided him in. The children were upstairs with Warlock, he could hear Alexas squealing in delight at whatever video game they were playing.

"Now listen Anthony." Harriet said when she'd sat him down and shut the door, "What in heaven's name is going on between you two?"

"Complicated."

"I can see that. You were so happy though. You've been married less than 5 years, what on earth-"

"Harriet." Crowley managed, "Harriet, I can't do this this morning. Please." He rubbed his eyes with his hand, "I know. It won't happen again, we won't forget them again. We're still speaking. We're just..." He paused, "In separate bedrooms."

The woman's eyes widened, "Oh Anthony, I'm so sorry. Did you think any more about getting Azira to see the counsellor?"

"He's a stubborn bastard, Harriet." Crowley replied, "A stubborn, ridiculously intelligent bastard. He knows what hes doing, he knows what it's doing to me, but he also knows what he's holding back. And so do I. And vice versa. We'll get through this. We've been together through so much... We just haven't worked out how to get over this yet."

The woman gazed at him sadly, "I wish I knew what to tell you. You were there for me-"

"It's far easier in the long run to know when to quit." Crowley sighed, "And for my angel, I wouldn't quit for Armageddon." He stood.

"Anthony, I told you-"

"I haven't been drinking. Not since last night anyway. Need to go home, Harriet. And ssssleep." He sidled out before she could stop him, "Kids? Kids, time to go home."

"Dad!" Shrieked Alexas, "Dad I need to get th'Zombie!"

"Lex, if you don't hurry it up I'm going to be a Zombie. Five minutes."


	12. Chapter 12

Crowley walked into the house, bedraggled children in tow. Alexas chattered as usual, something about a police lady shooting at a demon who sounded like the foxes rattling the bins at night. Alice and Ariel, older and always sensitive, were more subdued at the sight of their father, let alone the expression he wore. As they went to put their coats away, Crowley moved to the kitchen to fix lunch.  
Aziraphale intercepted him at the door to his library, "Crowley..." He looked like he hadn't expected to see him again, the demon thought. Maybe he hadn't. A lifetime of heaven's abuse would leave self doubt haunting his husband for a long time.   
"Hey angel." He managed, with more energy than he currently felt. Aziraphale took his arm, pushing him bodily but gently to the library door, "I'm sorry. Really my dear. I didn't realise. It's been... Its been so painful. I don't want to hurt you."  
"Yeah, well you're pretty good at it for an angel." the words were out before Crowley could contain them. Aziraphale didn't look surprised by them though. He must have been expecting worse.   
"...I'm not an angel, Crowley."  
"You're not a demon either." he murmured.  
"No." The angel's hands twisted nervously between them, "B-but I'm in flux, and I don't know what the end result will be."  
Crowley stiffened. 'In flux' was not a natural state for a celestial being - even when they had changed to whatever they were. Changing was only a circumstance for dire happenings - like falling - or like conceiving Angel-Demon hybrid twins that turned out to be part of the ineffable plan - celestial and occult beings very rarely reached a point where their system of belief, reasoning and loyalty was disrupted enough that they began to change themselves without the help of a higher (or lower) power. And it usually happened extremely fast.  
"Angel you could have said!" He practically shrieked in a panic, before remembering the children and quietening, "How am I supposed to help you - ngk- and support you and - and be open to you when you won't for me?" He could feel tears brewing, and tried to hold them back, his hands gripping his husband's wrists firmly.   
"That's why - I'm trying - I'm trying, Crowley!" Aziraphale managed, losing his own fight as his tears spilled over, "I'm trying. I don't understand - anything - but I am trying."  
Crowley's fingers threaded with his, feeling the wedding band on the angels hand and squeezing the hand gently, "I know. Sssorry about last night."  
"I know you've put up with me so much more than anybody else would. Or should."  
The demon snorted, "Patience of a... Never mind."  
Aziraphale gave Crowley a withering look, before taking the demon's hand and placing it carefully at his neck, above his Adam's apple. Crowley shivered involuntarily, "What-?"  
"I don't know." He replied, voice cracking, "But I can't- mustn't- you're the sleeper, you deserve to be comfortable. And I'm not, not right now."  
"You know I'm a demon don't you, not an actual snake? You know I won't go comatose from cold?"  
"But you deserve to be comfortable. Not cold."  
"But I'm not comfortable sleeping without you, Angel."  
Fresh tears made their way down the angel's cheeks, "I-I can't. I'm sorry." He ducked back into his room, "I... I do love you dear."  
Crowley lay his hand on the door as it swung shut, "I love you too, you idiot. I'll wait as long as it takes Angel. Just meet me half way..."

*

A couple of hours passed. Unable even to concentrate on his reading, Aziraphale was watching the children playing in the garden. At length Alice got bored of Ariel and Alexas's games, and wandered off. She came closer the house, and he lost sight of her behind the bushes that grew green and glorious up the walls.  
"Hello?" Her voice floated through the open window a moment later, "Oh. I'm sorry." a whistle followed.  
"Yes. I suppose I am. My parents are fighting a lot."  
Aziraphale wondered who she could be talking to, and moved to the wall to get a better view over the hedge. The girl was alone, and staring up above the window he peered through.  
 _Imaginary friend?_ He wondered idly, less worried now he knew she wasn't taking to a stranger.  
Then there was a sharp 'peep'. He noticed the movement as a robin hopped down onto his windowledge. He froze, worried he would give away his position.  
"I can't. I'm only little. And they are sad because they lost the baby." Alice said.  
The robin bobbed and chirped. The angel frowned at it.  
"Yes well, I know YOU don't think much of it when you lose a chick, but you have a whole nest full at a time. We only have one, usually, or sometimes two or three. But when you only have one at a time it makes you sad to lose that one."  
Another chirp. It sounded for all the world as though the bird had said, "If you say so..."  
"Anyway. Daddy used to be an angel so he loves too much. Sad things hurt him."  
The robin went nuts, flapping and chattering crossly.  
"No, I think somebody has to love everybody too much. Otherwise who would love Puck? - that's my brother by the way. Dad says that we have to trust Daddy, and that he'll get better in time. But how much time? I don't want them to fight."  
The angel moved away from the window with a deep sigh.   
"I'm sorry dear. You've all been so loving and patient with me. And yet I continue to hurt and push you away. My own children. I'm not very good at this parenting business." 

*

Crowley was cutting vegetables for the evening meal when Aziraphale returned unexpectedly. At the demons raised eyebrow he smiled, though they both knew it was a mask, "I thought maybe I owed the children a trip to the park before it gets dark."  
The demon nodded, a little surprised, "Let me get this in the slow cooker, I'll drive us all down... if you want?"  
"That would be marvellous dear." Aziraphale replied, and went to tell them to get ready. Crowley paused for a moment, "Didn't even have to use my back up line. Can't keep up with your mood swings, Angel."  
The children were pleased of the change in scenery, and their parents sat close together on the bench as they watched them. It was quiet - the local children had stayed well away tonight, and despite all the pain, anger and fear, Crowley found himself huddling to the Angel's warmth instinctively. At least until he laid his head on his neck.   
"Urk."  
"Sorry dear."   
"Not you'fault." Crowley managed, "Angel, I want to help..."  
"I'm not sure you can, Dear." Aziraphale replied, "If I can't help myself."   
There was a pause. Aziraphale turned his head, "I could tell you a story?"  
"Pfft, a story? Wouldn't be a story about Jackanory, would it?"  
"Dear I had no idea you watched Jackanory-"  
"Just 'cos you don't see me read anything but children's books doesn't mean I don't care for stories."  
"I see." Aziraphale replied, "Well. Do you remember when Ariel brought the grass snake in?"  
"Mmhm?"  
"She spoke to it and it seemed to... understand her. You, too."  
"I speak snake." Crowley snorted, "Obviously."  
"Well, earlier I was watching the children and Alice..."  
Crowley sniggered as his husband continued the tale.  
"What's so funny?"  
"Our daughter's invented her own Twitter!"  
"Oh dear, I know I shall regret asking but, what's a Twitter?"  
Crowley snorted, "Never mind, I'll explain later, go on."


	13. Chapter 13

Crowley was lying in bed 2 nights later when the bedroom door opened. A slow, hesitant step crossed the floor and stood by the bed a moment, before a figure rolled gently onto the non-Crowley side of it. After a pause, Aziraphale rolled over and tucked his head on Crowley's shoulder, arms around his waist. He buried his head in his husband's hair and whispered, "I apologise. I'm so sorry. I needed you tonight, it hurts so much... Please tell me if you get cold."  
Crowley pretended he was still asleep, and made no move to shift him. He was cross and upset, even now, but he could see why Aziraphale was suffering so much. He 'unconsciously' pressed backwards, closer to the angel, seeking the warmth from his cosy tummy. It was still perplexing to feel the ice cold streak of skin at his chest.  
He moaned quietly, as if waking, mumbling as his husband nuzzled his hair.  
"...BROKE MY ANGEL AGAIN MICHAEL... go ffff off you dull prat... leave us be... Angel..."  
The last word was spoken with such pain that Aziraphale wrapped an arm around his husband's slender neck and buried his nose in the demon's shoulder, "I'm sorry."

*

As it was, around 5am Crowley found the cold seeping into him, too. He rolled to face Aziraphale, who woke with the movement, "Oh. I'm sorry Dear, I'll go."  
"Angel..." Crowley whined, "I don't want you to have to."  
Aziraphale looked at the pink flush of his husband's skin, where he had been pressed against his own neck, "I rather feel... we don't have a choice."  
"Always a choice. I'll wear pyjamas. You can wear pyjamas. Or a vest or-"  
"A scarf?"  
"Ngk."  
"This is my fault, Crowley."  
"Not. Not your fault." The demon crawled to hold his husband's hips, cuddling at them in an attempt to keep him where he was, "Jussst got to get creative."  
"The children are aware, you know."  
Crowley gazed up at him, eyes wide, "No, No I'm sure they're not."  
"Alexas asked if I wanted to build a snowman."  
"That's- That's from that bloody Disney-"  
"Ariel drew my wings as ice."  
"Artistic license."  
"And Alice seems withdrawn around me."  
"Angel she's nearly 10, she's growing up, she'll be getting hormones and mood swings and-"  
"I think I might make some breakfast." Aziraphale said bluntly. Crowley watched him go, then threw the sheets back with a sigh and made for the en suite, intending to shower heat back into his limbs.  
When he got downstairs Aziraphale was staring at a batter he had taken out of the fridge, "Was this-?"  
"Pancake." Crowley supplied, "Let me heat the pan before you put that in."  
The hob turned on, Crowley clicked his fingers and the radio fired into life. A haunting, string instrument like melody was playing. Aziraphale clicked and it turned off.  
"Hey!?"  
"I don't want to wake the children." Aziraphale paused, "And... Every time that thing is on, the first thing it plays is Drift away."  
Crowley blinked at him.  
"The... song you were singing on the roof?"  
"Angel that's just your imagination. Cartoon Network wouldn't sell their show tunes for radio."  
"It was doing it just then." The angel replied.  
"I don't believe it. What is it tuned to?" He clicked again, and the radio fired back up. Aziraphale glanced at the little scrolling digital screen, "Er... Midlands metal heads FM."  
Crowley blinked, "Huh. Well that is weird. I'd have expected Aonia." He shrugged, and clicked the machine back off, "Look I'm sure it's just coincidence. I'll prove it." He rummaged in his pocket for his phone, loading his music collection, "Billions of tracks on here. Chances of Drift away playing are incalculable. I'll just shuffle it and-"  
_"Day after day I'm more confused  
Yet I look for the light in the pouring rain  
You know that's a game that I hate to lose  
I'm feelin' the strain, ain't it a shame..." _  
Crowley slapped the pause button so hard Aziraphale expected the screen to crack, "What was..?"  
"Alright, which one of you is messing with us now?!" The demon yelled, "Who's idea was that? Blasted Drift away by Uncle Kracker? You're sick, I'm only trying to help him." He fell quiet again at the thought of waking the children, turning back to Aziraphale, "Stuff the radio then."

*

Aziraphale walked the children to school that morning. He felt he owed Crowley, after the last few days, and left the demon pottering about in the garden with a travel mug of coffee. The children all held hands in a chain as they'd been taught to on the country roads, and despite his sadness and worries Aziraphale felt terribly proud of them.  
"See you all later." He smiled at them when they got to the gates, kissing the girl's foreheads and fighting Alexas for a cuddle that the boy shrieked about, "No Daddy, no stories no hugs!" He squealed.  
"Behave Puck." the angel told him, stroking his unruly hair before letting them wander into the playground. He waved to them, trying to force a smile as the bell was rung and they sorted themselves into classes.  
They were wonderful, intelligent children, and he gasped a little at the spark of love that zapped through him. He waited to watch them file in before turning to leave, the last parent to do so.  
"Aziraphale."  
The angel spun in shock at the voice. That was when somebody smacked him hard on the back of his head, and the world tipped sideways in an all too familiar fashion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like metal, give Aonia a listen. They're awesome. And Mel is the *best* !  
> And I'm not just saying that cos I've known her since 2001 either.


	14. Chapter 14

Crowley waited in the garden, weeding and pruning, but his gaze kept turning to the gate, waiting for the familiar figure to return. Aziraphale took his time on his walks, he knew, sometimes popping to the bakery for something to nibble his sadness away with, but he was usually back by now.

He leant on his spade, huffed at a lock of his today-long red hair to remove it from his face, and pulled his phone from his pocket, idly calling the number of the phone he had insisted on the Angel having now. He counted the rings. One, Two-

He heard it going off in the house, and cursed.

"NGK YOU IDIOT HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU TO TAKE YOUR PHONE WITH YOU?! ARG!!"

He tried to calm down. Tried to visualise the Angel appearing at the gate any minute. Then threw his tools down, clicked the house door locked and stalked out of the gate, wiping his hands on his heavy duty gardening apron as he did.

"Angel?!"

He stalked up the road towards the village.

*

Sound and the vibration of the floor he lay on came back to Aziraphale first; A measured tread that was strangely recognisable. A door opened, and a familiar voice groaned.

"That is not Michael!" Gabriel spat through clenched teeth, "That is as far as possible from an Angel without going to the basement!"

Sandalphon seemed far from cowed by his former superior, "I took what I could get. All the archangels knowledge comes from observing this one."

Aziraphale risked opening an eye, and saw scuffed trainers appear in front of him. If that was any indication, the Archangel Gabriel was not the proud and preening Celestial being he had been.

"Look at it." Gabriel despaired, but not in a concerned way, "It's barely... Barely alive, by our standards. What did you do to it?"

"That's how I found him." Sandalphon huffed.

"And you still thought it would serve as a conduit to divine powers?"

"He has a strong aura, he's channelling a lot of power. Gotta come from somewhere, and he is a principality."

"This? This wretched creature is no more than a husk, resurrected by demon spawn to make our lives hell on earth!" Gabriel punched the wall, "Why, Aziraphale? Why do you continue to be a thorn in our sides?"

There was a sudden sharp cry from the next room. The Archangels paused. The cry became familiar; the wailing of an infant. Then Sandalphon stalked out. Gabriel knelt to push Aziraphale over from his side onto his back, "Why couldn't you just fall?!"

"Because I did no wrong?" Aziraphale managed. Gabriel startled, but recovered quickly, his mouth a hard line, "You are an utter disgrace. Look at what you've done to yourself. What even are you? What is that energy? Where is it all coming from?" He grabbed the Angel's lapels, pulling him up with such force he thought he heard some of the ancient stitches tearing. He stared up into the Archangel's furious purple eyes, "I don't know."

"Then you'd better find out hadn't you, before you really ruin something for this little planet! This planet you care about so much wouldn't take kindly to the emergence of a creature with it's own gravitational field and uncontrollable, unaligned offspring! And what do you think would happen to all of us if humans discovered we exist?"

"Well they sort of do, there's these books see, which even name you, Gabriel..."

"In their reality, you fool!" Gabriel snapped,

 _Oh, think of all the love we could spread! S_ ome part of Aziraphale's brain whispered, _Then again, tell that to King Hezekiah... he prayed for aid and you massacred 185,000 of his enemies..._

"They will fear us, they will attack us, and we will be superior!" Gabriel was saying, "Why even one of your Demonic spawn could decimate a human army!"

"Leave my children out of your war plans." The angel managed, "They're not aligned with anybody because they're not part of our fight!"

"I suppose you'd say the same about that demonic little bastard-"

"Your son, Gabriel. YOUR SON. Is no demon. Lucien is a beautiful, innocent child who's future is unknown."

"Innocent?" Gabriel snorted, "There again, You chose to breed with a demon, your opinion is not to be trusted."

"Lucien is-"

Gabriel punched him. He hadn't expected Gabriel to punch him. That was more Sandalphon's cup of tea. And yet here was the formally smartly dressed, cool as a cucumber Archangel Gabriel, dressed in a tracksuit and grubby trainers and punching him in the stomach. Repeatedly.

Aziraphale did something his pre-apocanope self would have panicked over. He caught the Archangel's fist as he once had with Hastur, using it and a hasty grab at Gabriel's neckline to pull himself up, level with the Archangel, "I am not your punch bag. You did this to me. I don't know why you can't just take some responsibility!"

The cries in the next room increased in volume. Sandalphon had opened the door a crack to check everything was alright. In his arms, Aziraphale made out a baby in a pale babygrow with a mop of messy, straw blonde hair. As suddenly as it had opened, the door closed. Aziraphale's eyes returned to his former supervisor.

"It's not my responsibility." Gabriel growled. He struggled against the other angel to free his arms, but Aziraphale's grip was iron and his eyes had gone quite dark, an inky, oily film coating the usual brilliant blue - hazel.

"Oh come now Gabriel, all of this 'hell on earth' as you've called it. This breeding plan of the Almighty's. It was all from your - Inspired - actions. Though I can understand why you refuse to take the credit for diverting god's attention, after all..." Aziraphale's expression changed subtly, a sly smile quite unlike him taking over as he whispered, "What could possibly befall the archangel who got it wrong?"

Gabriel's eyes widened, "You have no idea how these things work - you went native so long ago-"

Aziraphale snickered, still wearing the terrible smile, "Wherever I end up, or down, I'll keep a chair warm for you."

Gabriel yelped. Aziraphale didn't let go, seemingly unaware of the smell of gold blood as his nails turned claw like and dug suddenly into the Archangel's wrists. At the noise the door opened again, Sandalphon this time slipping into the room as Gabriel yanked downwards, freeing himself. His face was steely like the lid of a hot pressure cooker as he clicked his wounds away.

"As if I'd done anything to warrant being near the likes of you."

"And yet here we are, together again." For a moment the old, seemingly carefree Aziraphale beamed forth to illustrate his point, only to vanish into the twitchy darkness that once more reached toward its captors. It blotched on his arms and neck, blue flame creeping with it up his cheeks to mirror his almost black eyes.

"You haven't done - anything - Gabriel. A child is crying, like so, so many on this earth. And You. Do. Nothing."

"What ARE you?!" Gabriel yelled, "What is that?"

Aziraphale glanced down at his hands. The dark blotches he hadn't noticed were forming marks, marks he knew so well.

"Egyptian." He stated, "Norse. Kanji. Arabic. Sumerian."

There was a lurch in the pit of his stomach. He felt suddenly sick, and knew his wings had spread involuntarily. His awareness of what he was saying and doing had returned, seemingly at the worst possible time.

Sandalphon took a step back, still holding the child, "Impossible."

"What-What is impossible-" Aziraphale flinched as the baby started crying again, shrieking in fear and dread as it could obviously sense the emotions of the room, as clearly as any of his own children could.

"Where did you get the other wings?!" Shouted Gabriel. The building seemed to be vibrating. It took Aziraphale a few moments, with a storm of anxiety burning in his brain as he stared at the ancient languages appearing on his corporation, to realise it was him that was humming. And not with his mouth - with a buzz of energy that was rolling in with a torrent of sadness and rage.

The baby screamed again, and Sandalphon pressed them to his chest, trying to quiet them. Aziraphale heard himself shriek in agony - heard Gabriel and Sandalphon shouting at the same time - heard the baby screaming in fear - heard his own head looping like a broken record -

_What am I - I'm hurting an innocent - What am I - I'm going to hurt that child - Gotta get away - Got to get out - How do I get out - Why are my shoulders so heavy? - What am I? What's happening? WhAtShaPPenING?!_

He covered his eyes with his hands and wings in a blind panic at the raging raw power inside him. He stumbled backwards, ignoring the shouts of the Archangels. The voices around him were too much with the high pitched cry too, and he felt his wings brush the window ledge, upsetting something there. Panicked by the noise and sudden hot agony in his back after the creeping cold of his neck these past few days, he threw himself backwards, breaking through the window, falling like a ton of bricks and righting himself mere centimetres from the ground. A few screams, a screech of tyres, honking horns, and he was rising upwards out of the way, tearing through the sky at speeds his regular (and singular) pair of wings couldn't dream of.

Out of the way of harming the innocent child, he could almost feel himself losing control of that panic, letting it out in a burst of pressurised, strangled energy. The city below trembled and he shrieked in fear. He was in London - London, heavily populated - and losing control of whatever was happening to him.

In their penthouse looking out across the city, a figure watched the confused, terrified and flustered celestial, and sighed.


	15. Chapter 15

Crowley tried hard not to look like an utter wreck as he waited at the school gates. Aziraphale would be fine - he would be home when they got back, surely - stupid bastard angel, always causing him stress lately, right? He'd be angry, Aziraphale would be apologetic, they'd argue about him taking his damned phone with him next time, it would be fine.

This train of thought lasted until the twins broke free from the throng of children flooding from the school doors. Alice was twitchy, but Ariel was beside herself. Alexas by contrast seemed immune to whatever was upsetting his sisters, "What up?" He grinned.

"Girls?" Crowley stammered out.

"Hurts." Ariel sobbed, flinching away from her sister's hand when it touched her shoulder, "HURTS."

Crowley froze as he began to feel the suffocating cloud of an emotional and celestial power storm. The clouds above seemed to sense it, clumping together strangely fast, the light fading as rumbles of thunder rolled through them. Despite Ariel's protestations at being touched in any way, he scooped up Alexas and herded the girls back to the Bentley.

"Aziraphale?" He pondered breathlessly as he started the car. In the back the children scrambled for their seatbelts as he floored the accelerator and headed in the direction of the storm. He ran idly through the conversation he'd had on the phone earlier with Anathema.

_"Where would he go though? The arctic circle?"_   
_"Like Superman with a fortress of solitude." Newt supplied, cuddling Jennet to his shoulder gently. She gummed at his ear, and he chuckled, "Alright, alright, I'll feed you."_

_"Write it in her book, Newt..." Anathema told him, "Though I think she eats enough that nobody would notice if we skipped an entry..."_

_"Scuse me new parents." Crowley had snapped in a panic, "I don't see why he'd go somewhere even colder."_

_"Numb the pain? Stop the disintegration of the Ice fields?"_

_"No. He hates it. It burns him. He sees himself more as... Frankenstein... trying to escape his own monster."_

In the present, the demon bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. Had he been too good at predicting the future?

*

Aziraphale was struggling not to go supernova, energy burning around and through him as though he were a funnel, when there was a bizarre buzzing and roaring above him. While he was distracted from the high winds his energy was generating, Beelzebub fell out of the sky and landed on his back hard, the shock knocking a huge chunk of raw panic from him, "Get your azzzz over there, Principality. Before you dezztroy the damn plazze..."

A sharp, clawed tug on his wings steered him into a turn, over a tall glass building, and onto a balcony, where he rolled, scattering feathers and his passenger before hitting the thankfully reinforced glass doors. Beelzebub shot up and slapped him hard, "Idiot, zzat wazz the worzzzt landing." They grabbed him by the collar and dragged him inside.

*

"Crowley?" Anathema's voice was as measured as it was possible to be when the weather had just gone to absolute pot, as had a lot of other things. The phone was crackly too, and any further build up would probably cut the networks out entirely.

"You heard me, Device, I need to know which way to go. This energy - it's - it's everywhere."

"Crowley you have to come to mine."

"My husband isn't at yours having an earth shattering breakdown."

Anathema sighed, "No, he isn't. But if anything happens to those children of yours because you're flying into danger..."

Crowley huffed, responsibility trying it's best to break into his panic. He glanced into a miraculous rear view mirror, already pointed at the three pale faces in the back. Ariel was crying. Alice had turned sideways in her seat and was trying to distract Alexas, but he looked more worried about his sister's talking than anything else.

He trembled, his senses still focussed on the road as he belted down the winding country lanes, but his eyes kept flicking to the mirror, and Alexas met his eyes in it.

"Dad, slow down." he said firmly.

Crowley eased off the accelerator a little. The boy's eyes didn't break their gaze.

With the same speed it had rolled in with, suddenly the oppressive cloud of emotion had gone. The clouds gave one last burst of rain, more like a hosepipe across the region, before calming. The energy was gone. He put the brakes on, pulling into a field entrance and sitting, breathing hard.

"Anathema?"

"I feel it."

"I'll... I'll come to yours."

Anathema tried hard not to let out a sigh of relief. Crowley glanced back in the rear view mirror, "At the speed limit."

"He'll kill you if you ever tell him you drove badly with your children in the back."

"We're okay." Alexas told her, "We have seatbelts!"

Crowley tried to put his own on without being seen. At least the kids had some sense, he told himself.

*

Aziraphale was staring at his hands on the carpet when he came to. They were still scattered with letters from all the earthly languages imaginable. Where they were fading, they seemed to be receding into his skin. He wasn't sure if this made him feel better or worse.

Beelzebub slumped on the sofa, Lucien in their arms, "Put thozze wingzz away. You can't go feral in here."

"Says who?" Aziraphale spat, "I'm barely holding together-"

Beelzebub reached for their phone and raised it. Aziraphale flinched at the words.

"Crowley. You need to control your huzzband better."

"You've got him? What have you done with him?!" Crowley's voice was rage and torment, and the angel felt ashamed he'd caused this stress yet again.

"Nothing. Just brought him in from a near rampage in London." Beelzebub snarled.

"Turn the phone round - Let me see him! I swear if you've hurt him-"

"No." Aziraphale managed, "Crowley I'm fine. I don't want you to see me like this."

"Angel..."

Aziraphale stood somehow, shaking as he made it to the windows, seeing his own reflection in the glass. He was a mess, extra wings and arms everywhere, claws on his hands and his hair sticking up everywhere with what might have been a nod to what remained of his Angelic, multi faced form. He sobbed, trying for a moment to fold everything back inside.

"Daddy, daddy-" became suddenly audible on the video call.

"No Lex-" Alice was saying, "Dad is trying to sort it out. Here, blow your nose-" The girl clicked her fingers.

Aziraphale passed out.


	16. Chapter 16

Gabriel had known immediately that this much energy release would draw somebody right to him. He bundled Sandalphon out with the infant, to get as far away as possible. Then he sat on a chair and waited, arms folded.

"There you are." Michael scolded.

"Here I am." Gabriel replied, "Fallen enough for you, have I? Or are you here to finish the job?"

"I am here to save you from falling, idiot." Michael retorted, "Are you aware how much trouble you have caused me?"

Gabriel just folded his arms tighter.

"Archangel Gabriel, you are not to abandon your offspring. This is an order from the top-"

"This was a bad fucking plan."

"Gabriel it was HER plan."

"So fell me." He replied, "If I am so useless to her that she would use me as a vessel for her newest war machines."

"Or she trusted you to raise a new type of creation." Michael snapped, "Or even that this was your punishment for acting alone to trick your underling to fall."

"So why would she want me to have anything to do with that disgusting creature?" Gabriel asked, leaning forward on the table his chair sat behind, "She knows how I will raise it."

"She has her reasons, Gabriel!" Michael spoke sternly, "And her plan. And we are her servants in that plan. Have you forgotten?"

Gabriel laughed, "Servants, right. She thinks anything raised by a demon and an angel will be worth anything to her in the next war?"

"Gabriel the next war has not been mentioned-"

"Why not a joining of Angels? to increase the power of the heavens against Lucifer? Why do we have to be joined and sullied by demons?"

"Gabriel you were chosen-"

"To be defiled." Gabriel stood, "Look at me Michael. Really look at me."

The Archangel took in the wisps of darkness in her brother's aura, "I see nothing here that you have not done yourself with your lack of belief."

"She won't answer me."

"I'm not surprised after that tirade!" Michael snapped, "I don't have time. I am here to warn you, not to reason with you. If you do not visit the child, ensure it's balanced upbringing, she will not give you a warning next time."

"Should have finished the corruption she started." Gabriel muttered.

"Will you visit the child, brother?"

Gabriel relented, "I'll visit. I won't live with it."

Michael sighed, "Perhaps that will be enough." She took a small bottle from her jacket, dabbing a little on her thumb and moving to touch his forehead with it, "May she forgive you, brother. May she hear you and understand. She didn't say any of this would be easy, but I am sure this is why she chose you."

Gabriel sneered, "Punishment then."

"No, Gabriel, honestly. Understanding, maybe. But it's not for us to question." She held his shoulder gently. Briefly the earthbound Archangel was aware of all that love, all the grace of heaven. Basking in the lord's love. Knowing you were wanted, and important to her. That you had a role to play, not a punishment to weather.

"I must go." Michael told him, "Oh, before I do, have you seen Sandalphon?"

"Sandalphon? No, I haven't."

"Your crime is not as bad as his. He stole his child from the demon who bore it."

"I would not have believed it."

"Really?" Michael frowned.

"No. Not really his scene."

"He was once Elijah, the guardian of the Unborn. It stands to reason that he may want to protect an innocent from a Demonic parent."

"I'll bear that in mind, and keep an eye open for him."

"Thank you Gabriel." Michael bowed her head, "May she send you strength to get through and tackle your responsibilities."

Gabriel froze at her words. He watched her go before snorting, "Chance would be a fine thing, Michael." he pondered, "When the next war comes, Samehra, born of a powerful Angel and a Duke of hell, will lead a new front into battle. I'll prove to you, Lord, that I'm worthy, that I should be heard."

*

Aziraphale woke at sunrise, to the familiar sounds of a baby being fed. He tensed a little. He was still on the floor, but was at least covered with a blanket. Beelzebub had their feet up on his back. He turned his head, seeing the Prince and the bundle he already recognised as Lucien.

"Interesting." Beelzebub said, as if they weren't preoccupied feeding a small, hungry baby.

"What?"

"We wondered where the power came from when your children performed miracles. The answer would appear to be you."

"Me?" He felt drained, but that was understandable after yesterday.

"And your zzznake. Your child miracled their brother a tizzzue. Your aura bled."

"...Oh."

"Of courze it iz only partly fed by you." Beelzebub pondered, "The rezzzt comez from the appropriate direction. You are a directing channel."

"Oh." Aziraphale managed, still not quite sure how to get out from under the Prince of hell's feet without seeming rude or upsetting Lucien.

"Your Zznake is on his way." they buzzed, as if hearing his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise - some of these chapters are still criminally short! :( Hopefully the 3 chapters a week format will be sustainable to make up for it.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote most of this chapter to Syd Matter's "Obstacles" so if you want the full experience, put that on now. It's lovely <3

Crowley hadn't slept. They had stayed at Anathema's that night, the children on the sofa and him on the single chair. At sunrise he had heard a baby crying, the sound of feet on the floor above. He stared at the ceiling.

"That should be us, you know." He said to nobody in particular.

The noise, such as it was, came downstairs. Crowley listened to it moving towards the kitchen before he snuck out to follow it. Anathema was standing in the bright morning sunlight, warming a bottle and cradling the little one to her. From the kitchen doorway, the sun framed the two perfectly, making the child's fine, dark hair shine almost gold. Like a halo, he pondered.

"Morning. Hope we didn't wake you." Anathema said, noting his line of sight.

"Didn't sleep." He managed, "This is your angel then."

"Mm." the witch offered the infant to him. He took her gently, his brain half screaming 'Should have been us' and half 'Oh, precious little creature. I am not anything near nice, but I won't hurt you.'

The baby stared up at him, her green eyes focussed intently. He breathed, "She... she's got more than 2 eyes."

"Well, she'll be fine so long as she keeps the rest wherever she's hiding them." Anathema replied, testing the temperature of the milk in the bottle before putting it back in the hot water again, "I can't explain extra eyes away to the local playgroup."

Jennet raised a hand. Too late Crowley realised his glasses were still in the living room, "Sorry kid. Scary. I know."

She smiled. Crowley's breath caught, "I didn't know any other angels could smile like that."

" _Did you make us all able to smile like that?_ " flittered back to him across the thousands of years.

"Smile like..?" Anathema blinked.

"Angels must always have smiled like sunlight." the demon concluded, "I just never realised it when I was one of them."

"You think she's definitely-"

"No idea. Adam proved children are capable of anything." he murmured in a manner that didn't give away his feelings, "Kids are pure as they can be."

Anathema handed him the bottle, "Here, I'll get you a coffee." She eyed the demon, "You've calmed her down anyway."

Crowley didn't say a lot, but Anathema didn't feel the need to keep checking him as she made the coffee. The only sound was Jennet's little sucks on the bottle, little grunts of happiness occasionally filtering through.

When she turned, she had a bit of a shock. Jennet had reached to hold the bottle, but held on instead tightly to Crowley's fingers with one hand, and a lock of his long hair with the other. The demon was crying.

"I'm sorry." She said as she sat down, "Did you want me to-?"

Crowley shook his head slightly, completely focussed on the little girl, "This is what... we should have been doing."

"Have you noticed any more things different?" She asked, "Either of you?"

"Haven't looked." He murmured, "When Angel said he was in flux I... just panicked. Can't lose him."

"You won't."

Another tear, "Is that what Agnes said?"

"An angel will cry with pain great as a fallen." Anathema quoted from memory.

"There is great evil in those who will not fall..." Crowley remembered.

"The evil won't be him." she replied, "It doesn't make sense for him to be."

"Or Spark? Were they - evil? Did I do something, did Angel's body reject it?"

"We've been over this Crowley." The sun was lighting up his hair now, but even that was dulled by the months of agony he'd been through, "Your auras and bodies fell into sync with each other to make your children. There's no way you could make a baby that was angelic or demonic anymore. There's just not enough angel or demon left in you both."

He put the empty bottle on the table and lifted Jennet gently, patting her back as she lay on his shoulder.

"I'm not sure it refers to you two at all." She placed her hand over his where he held Jennet close, "Crowley. Awkward as it is, would it not be beneficial to try and find out if you can both go and see little Spark?"

"Only when he wants." Crowley replied, distracted. The sun shone on his eyes, making them look like bowls of fire above the dark bags underneath. Then he realised Jennet had pushed herself away from his chest, and was reaching instead for his cheek. She nearly touched his eye, but he kept her just far enough away.

She made a delighted noise and chomped on his thin nose.

Crowley felt his stomach twist in a knot, "I should go and get Angel."

"Drink your coffee." Anathema told him, "And don't rush back. It's no trouble to have the children another night for you. Just call the school and tell them they won't be coming in today."

Crowley nodded. He was busy noticing as he took and squeezed little Jennet's hand how much peace seemed to bleed into him.

He stayed a little longer, holding the little girl and feeling her angelic little tendrils creep into his very bones. It was a bit scary, and he didn't want her using any real power on him, but this was just so... quietening. This energy ran the length of his corporeal body's veins and arteries, bringing everything into soft focus. His brain saw Jennet briefly as she might have been had God given her to them. Red hair, a streak of blonde, golden eyes...

Despair was trying to make him cry again, but the calm was too strong. Jennet kept smiling, kept holding his fingers. At length she put one in her mouth, and Anathema intervened, "No Jen, You don't know where Crowley has been!"

He chuckled.

"I'll say so long to the kids and ring the school before I go." He promised.

*

When he arrived at the flat, taking the steps three at a time and opening the door without knocking, Aziraphale was singing gently to Lucien, the sun still coming up between the tall buildings in this area of London. Lucien was gurgling happily, and Beelzebub was glad of the break, not that they were about to admit it. They were sat on the breakfast bar as Crowley walked in.

"Aziraphale... How the hell..." He demanded. Then he saw the angels expression. He had been calm while handling Lucien, in a way that made Crowley feel this was how Anathema had seen him this morning, but now the angel looked guilty and frightened.

Crowley paused, "Angel, please, what happened?"

"Gabriel and Sandalphon happened." Beelzebub supplied.

"I didn't ask you." Crowley managed, "How do I know it wasn't you?"

"Becauzze I know better than to releazze whatever your huzzband izzzz becoming." The Prince replied tersely.

Crowley made to round on them, but Aziraphale stood, moving quickly to hand Lucien back to their parent, "It's the truth, Crowley." His voice was quiet, ashamed?

"Beelzebub took me in after I escaped. I... owe them."

Crowley looked as though he might argue for a moment, but instead just reached to hold the Angel tightly, feeling the hug reciprocated, "I couldn't feel you... I knew you were distressed but I couldn't sense where you were. I thought I'd lost you."

"I wasn't really myself last night." Aziraphale admitted, shaking a little, "Please... let's go home."


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting early this week because I'm spiralling like a storm and want to try and avoid the internet a bit this weekend. Next chapter will be GMT Monday morning as usual.

The Bentley wove its way through the British countryside at speeds it was better not to think about. Its occupants were lost in thought, the radio conspicuously silent. Crowley was just thinking how they were so near home and his angel had still to speak when Aziraphale yelled "STOP!" so loudly that the Bentley spun 90 degrees across the road in response to the sudden braking.

Crowley was shaking when Aziraphale got out of the car and crashed to his hands and knees on the muddy grass verge. The Demon swallowed, "Angel, Angel, what-" his legs were like jelly, but somehow he scrambled from the car, moving to hold his husbands shoulders tightly.

"Are you..." The demon managed at length, having pulled the angel up to face him, "Going to pull this on the kids too?"

Aziraphale stared at him dumbly, as if he had no idea what Crowley was talking about.

"I asked Anathema to take care of them today. But I can't - if you're worse, Angel, I don't know how much more they can cope with-"

Aziraphale's gaze dropped. He _was_ ashamed. Crowley squeezed him, "Please, Please Angel."

He eventually let himself be lead back to the car, tears pouring down his face. The demon took the last few miles carefully.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" He asked.

Aziraphale shook his head.

They made it home soon afterwards. Aziraphale stood lost on the drive until Crowley guided him in. Once inside though, something awoke in the angel. He strode to the library and shut himself in, not even thinking for the wet mud and grass on his clothes. Crowley tried to ignore his still shaking limbs as he made his way to the living room. He couldn't face the sofas, even, and slid to the floor, back to the wall that adjoined the library. At least, he pondered, the kids didn't need picking up until tomorrow, which was fine as he felt like he was falling apart. All the calm and joy Jennet had extended to him this morning was already gone, burned through like so much kindling as he hurtled towards a breakdown of his own.

_Distract yourself._

He pulled his phone out and stared at the report in his news notifications. Something had been seen last night. In London. Just before a freak storm had hit, causing damage across the county and tidal waves up and down the Thames. Nobody knew what to make of the storm or the creature. It had dropped out of the sky in a shower of glass and caused chaos, before being videoed by a cleaner in one of the office blocks nearby, and photographed by 3 passers by. The pictures were blurry, but he made out wings, a swirling, inky cloud, and streaming blonde hair.

He went cold inside, hugging his legs close.

"Angel, Oh Angel..."

The other side of the wall, Aziraphale was shaking as he pulled books off the shelf he required in a blind panic. He thought he heard his name, and paused, tilting his head. Then a distinct distress filled his mind from the other room. He choked back tears and continued with the books. This was important! There would be time to apologise to his husband later, this was as urgent as the prickling of the cold numbness that had started to spread from his neck and chest, creeping through his being, cracking and fracturing ice crystals in his very soul. It burned like the North Atlantic in winter.

He made to lift the books, but a spasm brought him onto his rear on the floor. One hand clasped at where ice cold pain emanated from his chest, the other gripped the rug beneath him. He wanted to shout for Crowley, but his mouth would no longer work. He spread his wings, risking a look at the growing shards that looped his shoulder joints and locked his singular pair of wings in place.

He forced himself to his feet, scooping the books up to carry them to the table. He touched the covers with something like reverence. Then he looked to the pile of books on the other table. His wings twinged and pulsed, already numb, the last dredges of feeling echoing through them. He put them away, screwed up his eyes in pain, and clicked. Somehow he still had the presence of mind to bring a large plastic box to the room. He gasped, holding his chest, then reached for the pile on his reading desk.

*

Crowley passed out at some point, a prone figure on the soft carpet. Soft. Familiar. So many memories. Lying there when it was installed, inviting Aziraphale down to be met with the delightedly giddy giggle, 'Crowley I'm pregnant, I shouldn't be crawling around on the floor, I may not be able to get back up!'

Lying on the soft mat with the twins, watching them day in and day out as they took their first rolls, their first crawls, their first steps.

Sitting with Aziraphale, hands together in the warm glow of the proposal, the music soft, their heads together, breath mingling.

Alexas kicking for the first time.

So many games. So many tickle wars. So many cuddles. Board games at Christmas. Hot chocolate and rainy evenings. Scary movies at Halloween.

Distantly he felt discomfort. His brow furrowed, his senses otherwise buried in the memories.

Then pain.

Then complete, outright agony.

He sat up, tears in his eyes in sympathy for the being in need.

"Angel..?"

A few seconds saw him outside the library door, failing to knock first. Another second saw him turning the handle, uninvited. Then he was inside. There was a single table lamp on, highlighting the figure lying on the floor. Crowley leapt to his husband's side.

"Are you alright Angel?" he cried. Aziraphale opened his eyes. He was pale and cold, but he was alert. Crowley had seen the same haze on a human with a migraine though, and reached to hold his hand. Aziraphale flinched.

"Angel..?"

"I'm so cold."

"I'll get a blanket and some tea-"

"Crowley." The angel was gazing at him, "Don't."

"But Angel..."

"Won't do any good." He replied, reaching for the hand again and squeezing gently.

"I'm sorry. I was asleep. I should have stayed awake. After what you've been through-"

"What we've been through." The angel corrected.

"Angel-"

"I'm sorry, dearest." he pulled Crowley gently to lie with him, an arm around his husband.

"It's alright." Crowley murmured, "You hurt, I should have known how badly you would hurt."

"But not that I wouldn't notice you hurting for the longest time." Aziraphale replied, "I'm so, so sorry love."

Crowley kissed the end of his nose. Aziraphale sniffed, holding back tears.

"Does it... hurt?"

"So cold." was his reply. Crowley sat up, pulling his husband to sit against the end of one of the bookshelves, wrapping his arms around him to try and get some warmth into him, "Angel, I-" He paused, seeing for the first time the box of books, "Angel..? What are..?"

"For the attic, dear." Aziraphale replied softly, but Crowley felt the lack of emotion there, and trembled at a realisation.

"Angel... those are all religious texts."

"I'll keep them aside for reference." The angel replied weakly, "But... I'm not interested in this. Not right now. Too much." He turned his head away. Crowley bit his lip, but didn't feel now was a good time to press the issue. Despite the pain, Aziraphale clicked his fingers and the box was gone. Crowley turned and went to help scoop his husband up, "I'll put the fire on in the living room. You should ressst. We should both ressst."


	19. Chapter 19

Aziraphale retired once again to little Spark's room when he had rested enough to do so. Crowley let him. Whatever had happened to his husband, it was serious enough to have dampened down his grace and light, and exhausted him. It was essential he have the time to recover before facing the world again. Then they could deal with moving forward, perhaps.

He fetched the children the next morning. Ariel came to the door with Anathema, gazing up at him hopefully. He smiled, "Hey Ri. It's okay, sweetheart. Your daddy's safe. He just needs more rest. It wasn't his fault."

The girl beamed.

Anathema let him cuddle Jennet again, taking up the big sofa with all 4 children. Jennet's aura was just so pure. Her eyes gazed at him adoringly and her grace warmed his heart and gave him strength. He didn't want to drain the little girl, but she seemed to make it up with her eating.

"She likes food. Like somebody else I could mention." Anathema laughed as Alexas wandered in with an apple Newt had found him. Crowley smirked, "I tried to get your dad to try the apple of the tree of wisdom once, you know Puck."

The boy gave him a thoughtful side-eye, enjoying his fruit too much to really think about what was being said. Crowley smiled at him. On his chest, Jennet smiled in her sleep.

He was sorry to leave her.

*

Crowley had told the children that their dad had been through something terrible and that he needed some time to work through it. Alice had been a little sceptical, but Ariel set to work with her colours and her sketchbook, and before long she had drawn two delightful creatures that reminded Crowley of Chinese dragons. A handsome red one with gold eyes, and a pretty, more human one, with blue flames, rainbow feathers and books written on its hands.

It was a couple of nights after Aziraphale returned home before he saw him again. Crowley was lying on the sofa, the channels flipping of their own accord as he half dozed. He didn't notice the door open and close. He barely felt the sofa cushions shift. But he felt the eyes of his husband on him, and after a long pause, he turned slowly to glance over his shoulder at him.

Aziraphale looked awful. Not as bad as the other night, but awful nonetheless. Usually Crowley was aware of his slight angelic glow. In the dim light it was like looking at another person entirely. There was nothing there at all, and his eyes were in shadow.

He sat up, eyes widening.

"Dear." Aziraphale murmured, "I... I think whatever it is... is over."

He hadn't dropped his eyes in shame, or twiddled with his waistcoat. He just looked exhausted.

Crowley reached for his husband gently. Aziraphale flinched, "You mustn't...so cold."

"Don't care." Crowley said, and held him. Aziraphale sniffed, shaking with silent tears. At Crowley's insistent clinging he reached to hold him in return. Crowley nuzzled at his husband's ear, finding his skin - to him, at least - strangely a bit warmer than it was previously. The back of his neck was still cool where his skin was exposed, but the rest of him was... bearable.

He kissed his husbands cheek gently, stopping his tears in their tracks before moving to his mouth, stroking his curls gently and soothing.

"What does it look like?" Aziraphale asked as they broke the kiss.

"Hm?"

"Have I - fallen?"

Crowley narrowed his eyes. Up close he could now see small glimmers of that pale, angelic aura within a deep blue swirl of energy. He tilted his head, not understanding what he saw.

"No." he replied finally, "Whatever you are, even changed as you are, you're not demonic."

Aziraphale had no response to that. Crowley was pleased he had at least disposed of the immediate relief reaction at being told this. It was nice to know his husband no longer immediately associated being a demon with being evil.

"Oh." Aziraphale said then.

"Hm?"

"So I still don't know what I am. Even... complete."

"I'm sorry." Crowley managed.

"It's... Not your fault." his husband managed a weak, lop sided smile, "I...Don't know what I expected."

"Answers." Crowley replied. Aziraphale slid closer on the sofa, "What answers could ever be better than the one before me?"

His hand found Crowley's cheek, and the demon reached to hold it there, a ghost of a smile at the action, "Angel..."

"May I join you?"

*

"Newt, are you working Saturday?"

"No, the Sergeant has something like a date weekend planned."

"Good for him, when do we get one?"

Newt blinked, "Erm. Need a babysitter."

"I suppose. Not that we can ask anybody."

"Oh?"

"Newt..." Anathema chided gently, "You remember I told you she was making miniscule stars in her room last week?"

"Oh. Yeah."

"And she could win the World cup for England, the way she kicks folk."

"I guess." Newt eyed his bruises from a particularly painful tickle game he'd been playing with his daughter earlier, "She's pretty strong."

"I think we only know one couple, short of asking the Them."

"Oh, but-"

"I know. Have to introduce them first."


	20. Chapter 20

A scruffy, disposable demon stood before two figures in the penthouse flat. Beelzebub was sprawled on the sofa, idly chewing what might have been a toothpick or a small bone. Dagon was sitting in the separate chair, a folding table in front of them on which was balanced an old, decrepit laptop. The demon finished its report, and waited anxiously. Beelzebub thought for a few minutes, then nodded at them, "Noted. Dizmizzzed."

They stretched as the demon left, comfortable on the sofa but not willing to let it show to the underlings. They stood to remove and shake out the plastic bed of nails that was there. As if on cue, there was a wail from the bedroom, and they sighed, "Dagon. Write up. I muzzt attend to Luzifer's ordered duty."

Dagon nodded and began to type on the battered old computer. Beelzebub returned with the baby and crossed to the kitchen to prepare a bottle. The lord of the files glanced up with bitter loyalty as the Prince returned, but otherwise they continued plotting and recording Hell's deeds as usual.

"How is the boy?" They asked carefully.

"He showzz promize." Beelzebub replied.

"A pebble in the ocean, my Lord."

"Because he izz zmall?"

"Because they cause ripples."

At length Lucien quietened and went back to sleep. Beelzebub put them back in the other room. When they returned they gazed at the view.

"How izzz Hell?"

"Much as you left it." Dagon replied, "Hastur keeps them in line."

"Are there any developmentzz in the zzearch?"

"No. Wherever Sandalphon is with the child, nobody can find them. Heaven can't find them even."

"Dizguzting behaviour by the Archangel." Beelzebub wrinkled their nose.

The front door opened and closed. The two Demons gazed at the door into the main living space until it opened.

"Well well. Zzpeaking of dizguzting angelic behaviour." Beelzebub said, "Itzz deadbeat himself."

Gabriel stared at Dagon, running his eyes around the room before turning to Beelzebub, "We can't go home."

"Did you think they would waive the rule for you? Hazztur only got below because your fellow idiot zztole his child."

"Child. Right." Gabriel shuffled, "I've been told. Ordered. To spend some time with it."

"It is a him at present." Beelzebub buzzed crossly, "Give uzzz one good reazon."

"Because you're probably teaching it demon crap?"

Dagon snorted. Beelzebub stared Gabriel in the eye, "He is zmall. He is learning how to zee. Not how to behave. But you do not want to underzztand him. You were merely ordered to."

Gabriel didn't reply. He shuffled his feet and glared hard at the sofa. He was sure it hadn't had horns and chains the last time he was here...

"Dagon, pleazze bear with me." the Prince said, standing to beckon Gabriel into the bedroom.

Gabriel hadn't been back to the flat in months now, and was surprised that the bedroom had only changed a little, and not into a pit of sin as the living room seemed to have. The double bed he had shared with the Hell Prince was pushed to the far wall. The crib was set up as well as a changing table, there was a car seat in the corner and stacked boxes of clothes marked by age.

Beelzebub ushered him to the crib. He crossed the room and with a breath, looked down.

Lucien had grown a lot in the last few months. He was a tall baby, with thick, dark hair, and Gabriel already knew, his eyes. He was dressed in a grey babygrow, mittens imprinted with boxing gloves on his little hands so he didn't scratch himself.

As if sensing somebody, the boy turned his head, opening his eyes. He gazed at Gabriel long and hard, his expression curious. Then he kicked his legs out roughly, the crib shifting slightly with the strength of the celestial infant.

"He wizzhes to be picked up." Beelzebub supplied.

"I'm not here to touch it." Gabriel retorted.

"Then what izz the point of your vizit?!" The Prince buzzed crossly, "You could fly up and check through the windowzz!"

"What does it do?!" Gabriel boggled.

"Eat, zleep, learn, grow." Beelzebub snapped, "You had the file."

"Well, Sandalphon has it now."

"You have zzeeen him?" Beelzebub raised an eyebrow, remembering what Aziraphale had told him of the pair being present in the same flat.

"In passing. Didn't seem like the file was much use to me."

"He hazz zztolen the child."

"Oh. Thought I didn't see a demon husband with him. Hoped labour had discorporated the bastard."

"Hazztur had azziztance from your dirty angel."

"Speaking of bastards."

"What did you want with him, Archangel?" Beelzebub asked.

"Aziraphale? I have to have a reason to keep an eye on that monster?"

Beelzebub rolled their eyes. There would be no joy there. They tried again, "What about the child?"

"I've been told to be involved." Gabriel replied, "I told you that already."

"Hazzturrzz child." Beelzebub's eyes were faceting again, a sure sign the Demon was a gnat's wing from calling Dagon to assist them to remove Gabriel from the premises.

"No idea. Sandalphon's idea." Gabriel replied, "I don't care for any of these ridiculous hybrids."

Lucien hiccupped. Gabriel pulled a face, "Tell me when it's stopped playing the Olympic sport of throwing up on itself." He strode out in disgust. Beelzebub glanced over the boy, grabbing a baby wipe to clean his face.

Lucien giggled at them.

"Apologiezz, child." Beelzebub told him, "Your idiot father doezz not care."

*

"Ariel showed me something." Aziraphale murmured as Crowley brought him his evening hot chocolate a few nights later.

"Oh?"

The angel opened up the internet on his computer, "These... forum things."

Crowley leaned over the desk. This looked different to his husband's book forums.

"They talk about good days and bad days." Aziraphale continued. Crowley nodded supportively, glancing down the topic threads.

"-But also how it doesn't really leave you." his husband paused, "It can change the... way you see the world."

Crowley leaned his head gently on Aziraphale's shoulder, "I guess none of them are ethereal beings though."

"Not that they let on." Aziraphale replied.

"Bit useless then, really." Crowley had lost interest, "Good of Ariel to help out though."

Aziraphale patted his hand, "Yes. And maybe. Maybe I..."

"Hm?"

"Just wanted to let you know I... am trying."

"You always were trying, Angel." Crowley teased, kissing his cheek, "But it's noted. And appreciated. Can I help?"

Aziraphale nuzzled at his cheek, "Keep trying me in return?"

"Okay." Crowley replied, "Stop me if this is too much." He exhaled, "Anathema asked if you wanted to meet Jennet."

"Jennet?" Aziraphale frowned.

"You remember... Angelic baby got delivered to her around the time Lucien, and Hastur's little maggot were born? We... promised to have a look into her true form some time."

Aziraphale looked for a minute as though he might say no. Then he smiled, taking off his glasses to look up at Crowley, "That sounds wonderful, I do enjoy meeting the youngsters."

"Innocents. Yeah, I get it. And I think maybe... she might help you, too." Crowley replied softly.

"They are love, Crowley." The angel replied, "They're all love. It's... comforting. Not yet damaged by the harsh world they have arrived in... And I feel that."

Crowley stroked his cheek, "Just don't get wielding the umbrella to defend this one. Remember you don't have a flaming sword anymore."

"I can't help it." Aziraphale huffed, "It's automatic."

"Innocent defence mode, of course, I hear you." Crowley teased. A warm feeling bloomed in his chest, "What's your excuse for whipping the tulips out the vase last week and poking me with them then?"

"Ah, erm..." Aziraphale bit his lip, "False alarm?"

"Bastard." Crowley chuckled, kissing his husband's forehead, "I'm going to get the kids drinks. Will you read the story tonight?"

The angel paused a moment, "If you could..?"

"Of course."

"But... I'll sit in."

Crowley smiled. Aziraphale returned it. He made to shut the machine down before starting his hot chocolate, then frowned at the windowledge.

"A rubber duck?" He said to nobody as he picked the little squeaky orange duck from the window. He squeezed it experimentally. It made a shrill, airy squeak.

 _Must be one of the children's toys_ , he pondered, _I'll leave it there for them._

As he turned, he knocked the mostly finished mug over, "Oh dear." He clicked his fingers.

Nothing happened.

"Ah." He scrabbled for a duster off one of the shelves, "I - I suppose this was bound to- to happen - luckily I - am prepared." He mopped up the remainder of the hot chocolate, "What a waste though."


	21. Chapter 21

It was a couple more weeks before they decided to try and invite Anathema and Jennet over. Aziraphale had improved, but Crowley still squeezed his hand before he went to answer the door, "You don't have to, if you're not ready. If you need to stop, tell us."

Aziraphale smiled faintly, "I don't think I could look Anathema in the eye if I didn't try, Dear."

Crowley went to the door, brushing children out of the way. The three children had been excited to meet their new playmate when they stayed over, as they were probably right to assume they would be seeing a lot of her. They ran into the living room as Crowley ushered the couple through.

"Aziraphale, how are you?" Anathema asked first. Crowley patted the angel's hand. He smiled, but didn't have time to respond before Alexas had climbed up onto the arm of the seat to look at the little girl Newt had in a chest carrier, "Hi again! I bet you forgot by now, I'm Alex! I love your eyes! Are you an angel? Do you have white wings?"

Jennet stared at him, smiling blankly.

"C'mon Puck, don't crowd the small one." Crowley chuckled, lifting the boy off Newt.

"Daaaad." He complained, but Crowley sat down with him, "Step right up then, let's see this angel."

"Hm? Aziraphale blinked, then realised Crowley hadn't been referencing him directly, "...Yes. Lets."

Anathema helped get the baby off Newt. Aziraphale steeled himself as she moved to him and passed her over. He breathed slowly as her took her.

Crowley watched his face and felt his breath catch at the angels smile. Aziraphale was surely feeling that same slow spread of warmth and affection Jennet had given him that morning in Jasmine cottage.

"Hello there, Jennet."

The girl seemed to focus on him, her mouth opening as she made a little squeal. She wriggled, catching the angel in the face with a flying foot. Anathema moved to hold her steady but Aziraphale brushed this off, "She'll wrestle you when she gets older, Lex. Strong girl."

"Yes! Wrestles!" Alexas squealed. Ariel and Alice breathed sighs of relief at the idea of not having to indulge their brother's more hyperactive tendencies. When Aziraphale had predicted the boy would have guardian strength, he hadn't been wrong. If the boy had been interested in sports, he would have soon been the star striker of the school's football team.

"Good morning to you, too." Aziraphale was chuckling, "You've been graced to fine parents, dear girl. But there's just a matter of what you are. If you don't mind..?' He lifted her gently, closing his eyes as he rested their foreheads together. He tensed a little a moment later, and Crowley reached to put a hand on his arm, "Angel..?"

Anathema hadn't moved far, and made to take the girl, seeing the sudden tears that rolled without warning down the angels cheeks, but instead of sobbing, he shook his head and started speaking.

"Eyes. So many eyes." He murmured, "So many eyes, Feathers in colours visible and not, Cherubic grace with spinning halos. Familiar. So many eyes, so many eyes, in so many colours."

He paused, swallowing emotions, then let out a little laugh, "Glad to meet you too. It's been a long time since I've met a new Angel."

Another moment and he smiled, crinkling the corners of his eyes, "Woven on the loom of the Lord, with the power to choose her own adventure and polarity." His breath caught in his throat, "Home. Feels like home."

He opened his eyes, letting Anathema take the girl, "I'm sorry, I got a little lost."

"Are you okay Angel?" Crowley asked.

"Sorry." Aziraphale repeated, wiping his eyes, "She. She's from above. But she's to choose her own fate. She has a few markings of a cherub, but not many - she's not really a - a tier of angel I recognise."

Crowley reached to gently wipe his more stubborn tears away, "Why - why this?" He croaked.

"She. She gave me such a feeling of home. I suppose being so newly from the workshop where we were all..." He shook his head, "So much has happened Crowley. The feeling of home and love was just... overwhelming." He met his husband's eyes, and for a moment the demon felt as though Aziraphale was seeing him truly for the first time in weeks.

"I won't ever regret us, Crowley." He murmured suddenly, "Don't look so frightened dear." He paused, "Just an ancient longing for those first moments before you realise that the world you were born into - and the creator who made you - aren't as beautiful and kind as first waking in her aura."

Crowley's hand covered his, where it rested on his thigh, "Angel..."

"Dear..."

"I wanna see sis now!" Alexas shouted suddenly. Aziraphale chuckled as Newt spluttered, "Sis?!"

"I choose my sister." Alexas explained, "Cos Dad and Daddy too sad to make more."

Crowley glanced to Aziraphale, but he met his eye fully, a fond smile on his lips, "His father's sassy mouth - but he doesn't lie."

"He doesn't." Crowley agreed, "But he could work on his subtlety." he stood to distract his son with a toy, then with a sigh he turned to the others, "Tempt anybody to drinks?"

"Oh, I'll help. I've got something for you to try, Aziraphale." Anathema added, "A little boost for the hard days."

"Oh, that's too kind of you Anathema." the angel replied, momentarily distracted by Alexas hopping up with a plushie dinosaur, "Daddy, tell me about dinosaurs."

Anathema followed Crowley out momentarily. The demon was boiling the kettle already.

"How are you?" She asked.

"Getting there."

"Maybe you should try some of this booster too."

"Come on Device, you know I don't believe-"

"If Aziraphale is trying it, you have to try it too." She insisted. Crowley shrugged, "Eh, fine then."

"What did you want to ask me then?" She asked, unpacking her bag and pockets onto the kitchen table.

"A - Ah well - Ngk." Crowley said.

"Come on flash bastard." Anathema teased, "Spit it out."

"Aziraphale." The demon managed after a couple of false starts, "Something is different. Can't put my finger on it."

"You mean apart from his Aura?"

Crowley blinked. Squinted a little. Of course, that first night he had noticed... He'd been much too relieved with his husband's behaviour of late to actually think about other things.

"Aha!" He nearly knocked the kettle over, "Yes that's it! It's his aura! But apart from falling I've never seen such a wild change... and never seen his colouration before." The demon paused, "Whatever happened it was painful, but not falling painful?"

"So what was he doing, recently? Apart from losing his sense of self?"

"He... heard about 3 new babies in one day. Shifted some of his books. Had an Archangel drop in on us. Kidnapped by two more of the bastards. Don't know what happened there. They did something to him."

"And you didn't speak to him about it?"

"He won't. Anathema you know how he's been, he needs space."

"He needs to not change himself beyond all comparison. Needs reminding who he is. He lost the baby, and that changes you forever - but a being like Aziraphale, with a strong heart and purpose, has a strong sense of self, and he'd do well to be reminded of himself.'

Crowley was quiet. Anathema frowned at him, "What?"

The demon was a little distressed, "What-what happens when an angel loses faith?"

"An angel loses... Crowley what, what on earth-"

"Her upstairs. She knew. She knew what would happen and she let him get enthusiastic regardless. He was - he was raring to go! And then BAM! this happened... And the books he's put away... they're all religious. I think he's... he's lost his faith. He's an angel without faith. He knows what exists... but he doesn't believe in the good or badness of the sides, the ineffable plan... doesn't believe in God and Lucifer's ridiculous-ass plans or the reasoning behind them being correct."

"But Crowley, neither do you."

"But he's - he's an Angel." Crowley whined, "Before Lex was born he... told me he didn't care as much for the plan as he did for the kids."

"Oh." Anathema's hands covered her mouth in surprise, "He managed that?"

"W-why do you think I proposed to him?" Crowley managed, "He's the most amazing Angel I ever met. Above or below. But now - now - she's taken one of the kids from him and he's - he's gone full bloody Agnostic."

"An angel will cry with pain great as a fallen." The witch managed, "An Angel who loses everything they once thought core to their being. Be that a child God gifted them the ability to have, to his own Upbringing, his own self, his family."

"Ssssself inflicted f-falling." Crowley hissed, "And doesssss ssshe even care? Isss ssshe just biding her time to let him get well before sssshe sssmites him?"

"Crowley." Anathema had moved to the kettle as they'd spoken, and handed him a cup of something, "Drink this. You're panicking."

"No ssshit." Crowley replied, sitting and putting his head to the table to sniff the mug suspiciously. Anathema took the drinks through before she returned to the kitchen and picked up her coffee, "Better?"

"Tastess like dish soap." Crowley sulked.

"Knocked some of your S's on the head though." She winked, "I need to thank you both again. For the boxes. You've been so much help with her without even being around that much."

"Eh." Crowley shrugged, "Another box we won't need again that's better out the attic."

Anathema felt the pain behind those words, "I wish I could say more."

"I'm happy with what we have." Crowley snapped back, before softening a little, "Sso was he, until her above messed with him. Ngk." He shook his head, "Playing games with her creations... how despicable can you get?"

A few moments had passed before, confused by the sudden quiet, they moved to the living room doorway. Crowley paused there as he had many times before to watch his husband. He smiled.

Anathema joined him. Newt was asleep on the one seater, tired from night feeds and holding the baby while the witch got her own work done of an evening, so Aziraphale was holding Jennet. Holding being the operative word. He was lying on the sofa on his back, the baby on his chest, as he talked animatedly to her and occasionally tickled her or booped her nose.

"For an ethereal being, he's a natural" Anathema murmured, "I should be watching him."

"He loves." Crowley replied, "And children are innocents, he loves them the most. Its just his nature."

"And you?"

"Mischief is my nature." Crowley grinned.

"Do you think he would mind my bringing her around sometimes?" Anathema asked as they retreated to the kitchen, "They look so comfortable together. I never forget that you should have had one her age."

"Quite." Crowley said suddenly, "Ours was due, Gabriel had his at the same time, Hastur had his within 24 hours and she turned up from heaven at the same time."

"It is interesting." Ana frowned, "And worrying."

"Not gunna lie Anathema, God gave her to you, and God's a bitch. She sent her own son to his certain death down here. He suffered and she didn't give him the slightest relief. That boy was a marvel." He shook his head, aware he was going off topic, "So she must have a purpose in sending Jennet, potentially not a good one. But you can't plan for that. You have to... enjoy what you have."

"I hope he's realised that, too." Anathema patted his hand, as the footfalls of three children thundering down the stairs and across the hall could be clearly heard, with cries of, "Daddy!"

"That girl filled me with peace when I held her. I hope she gives him the same. Peace. Even for a short time."

"And hope." Anathema whispered.

"Hm?"

"I feel it too. Peace. And Hope."

Ariel pattered into the kitchen. She smiled at the adults, weaving around them and looking around her suspiciously.

"What up buttercup?" Crowley asked.

"Dada." The girl smiled, pressing something into his hand and whispering in his ear. Crowley laughed, "Of course. Good idea Ri."

The girl beamed and skipped out. Anathema raised an eyebrow.

"Just a little something to keep our Angel's mind busy." Crowley chuckled, standing and moving to the window next to the French doors, where a beautiful spider plant cascaded down in all directions. When he moved away, Anathema could clearly make out a tiny, round yellow head with a beak on it.

"Rubber ducks?"

"Rubber ducks."


	22. Chapter 22

Crowley had honestly thought things would never improve, once. Aziraphale's depression seeped into everything he did, everything Crowley did, and sometimes, despite their best efforts, into the children too, the thought of which in turn hurt the Angel even more.

The year dragged. The children's birthdays came and went, celebrated well. They kept moving. Aziraphale kept trying. Sometimes he had a bad day, and couldn't face anybody. But now it was hours, not days. He still slept a lot in the empty bedroom though. Crowley wondered how on earth the angel was comfortable on the floor, fluffy carpet or not.

One Monday evening Crowley brought the children home from school and found Aziraphale in the kitchen with tea ready, a smile, and a candle burning in the window (what had he told him about candles?!) Then he remembered it had been a year, today, and somehow, somehow, Aziraphale had improved enough to put on a brave face for the kids.

He kissed his cheek and miracled something tasty into the fridge for dessert.

After the children went to bed, Crowley watched Aziraphale do the washing up. He dried up for him. It was a nice, companionable silence. Then the angel finished and went to the window to blow out the candle. He paused for a moment in contemplation, and Crowley joined him, "C'mon."

He lead the angel outside, where a miraculously clear sky was peppered with stars as far as the eye could see.

Aziraphale frowned, "Crowley?"

The Demon sat him down and joined him, "Sure they're watching us today. And they'd be proud of you."

Aziraphale managed a half smile, blushing as he turned his eyes back to the stars, "Little Spark..."

"And you said Puck was a ridiculous nickname."

"That's because it is."

"Suits him though." Crowley nuzzled at his neck, "Angel, you're warm."

"Oh?"

"Its nice. I missed it."

Crowley felt Aziraphale's arm around him as they lay back in the grass. The angel turned his head slightly, "Which one would you dedicate to them?"

"Sacrilege!" Crowley snorted, before raising his arm, scanning a finger across the sky, settling on a little star on the edge of a swirl, a nebula of young stars, "That one."

"Oh?"

"Small, but perfect."

"Oh... Crowley." Aziraphale squeezed his hand tightly.

"Shall we watch them skip across the sky for a while?"

"Mm."

They came in from the stargazing some hours later. Aziraphale sat at the kitchen table. Crowley leant against the fridge. There was a long silence.

"This year has been... harrowing." Aziraphale managed at length.

"I'll say."

"When I think of what we've lived through..." The angel sighed, "I've been a fool, Crowley."

"No." Crowley managed, "No you haven't, Angel. You said yourself, humans grieve the rest of their lives in your position. It destroys human relationships. It might never be the s-sssame again. Ngk."

"Crowley..." Aziraphale managed gently, "I mean... how I've handled it. I should know by now that... I shouldn't withdraw, not from you."

"Angel-"

"Please... Crowley I'm sorry. I wish I knew how to make it right."

Crowley blinked, "Ngk-Sssssssss." He swiped at his eyes. Aziraphale glanced up, shocked at his husband's expression, "Oh, Dear, please." He produced a handkerchief from a pocket, moving to him, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry dear. Please, let me."

Crowley sank down the fridge, knocking magnets and papers aside in his wake. He came to rest seated on the floor, with his head in his hands. Aziraphale knelt and wrapped his arms around him, murmuring his apologies over and over again. Crowley shook with the effort of keeping his tears quiet. Cold from the flagstone floor began to seep into his hips but he stayed put.

At length Aziraphale lifted him, holding him close and carrying him to the sofa. Crowley gripped Aziraphale's jacket, "Please don't leave me alone, Angel."

Aziraphale's heart broke, "I-I - I just wanted to -" He tailed off, "We should take the duvet into the - into Sparks room. We should... be together tonight."

"Ssssshould be together... every night. Ssssstupid brilliant b-beautiful angel." Crowley stammered.

Aziraphale hugged him tight, "Again, please Crowley. What am I?"

"?!"

"A stupid angel." Aziraphale whispered, "I have a family and a loving husband and I still couldn't cope. I have been terrible and you and the children have suffered for it."

"Ngk-we-we understood, Angel-"

"Doesn't make it right, my love." he whispered, "Come on. Let's get the duvet and pillows. Spend the night with each other... And Spark."

Crowley gripped him tight as he was lifted and carried to the bedroom.

"Oh, bother, I forgot to lock the doors." Aziraphale said as he set Crowley down, "Give me a minute."

Crowley cuddled his knees as he waited, too out of it to ask why not just miracle them locked. His phone vibrated, and he took it from his pocket idly out of habit.

"Eesh, what's Shadwell teaching you, Newton?" He managed, "It's not English at any rate."

The phone buzzed again, "Sorry. Jennet got my phone. Guess she wanted to say hello :)"

Crowley snorted, texting back, "Hello Jennet."

Aziraphale returned with a smile, "All done dear." He glanced at the phone. Crowley snorted, "Jennet's been sending us gobbledygook on witchfinder minor's phone."

"Oh! How sweet." Aziraphale chuckled, Shall we, dear?"

* 

"Oh. Oh dear..."

Crowley looked up from the nest of blankets that filled the floor of the unused bedroom half an hour later. Aziraphale was struggling with a line of handkerchiefs, all tied together, that he couldn't find the end of up his sleeve. The demon began to chuckle.

"Dear, it's not-" Aziraphale glanced at him and seemed to catch the laugh. He moved to sweep Crowley up in his arms, laughing together. He clicked his fingers to put the hankies elsewhere. A couple of minutes cuddles and little, delicate kisses later he paused, "Ah."

Crowley glanced to find there were still hankies hanging out of his sleeve. "Satan preserve us Angel, how many have you got?"

"Just one." He confessed, glancing to the unused changing table to see nothing there, "The same one apparently." He paused.

Crowley clicked it away, "Angel?"

Aziraphale smiled gently, "Doesn't matter imminently, Dear." He nuzzled back to Crowley's neck.

"Later?" Crowley pressed.

"Later."

"Promise me?"

"Promise." The angel squeezed him gently.


	23. Chapter 23

Crowley stared at his husband as he explained the following morning. They were lying on the floor of Spark's room, awake but cuddling for the hour or so before the children had to get up. Aziraphale had finally, as the children's alarms went off, managed to tell him what was going on.

"So you can't do miracles anymore."

Aziraphale shook his head, "Well. It's not 100%. A few things still work. Things to do with this corporation. Changing it, not needing to breathe and so on. But the rest... it's not reliable."

Crowley nodded, taking it all in, "How do you feel about it?"

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried. In case of an emergency. But... I've tried to minimise miracles around the children anyway. So it's... liveable." The angel replied, "It's just hard to remember I can't."

"Okay." Crowley nodded, "I'll take care of you Angel, you know that."

Aziraphale took his hand with a smile, "I know. But don't feel you have to do everything. I will cope. I will learn to cope."

"Daddy you seen my shoes?" Ariel called suddenly. (She always was up before everybody else)

"Shoe rack, Dear?" Aziraphale called in reply.

"Couldn't see them."

"Oh?" Aziraphale paused, "I know! They're on the bottom shelf, I'm sorry dear, they're not in your space, I forgot."

Ariel's little footsteps moved away. A moment later she called, "Thank you Daddy!"

"You're going to do fine." Crowley nuzzled his curls as he moved to get up, "Want to walk them to school with me?"

"Yes dear. I'd like that a lot." Aziraphale huddled against Crowley's ribs, "Maybe we should put our bedding back first though."

"You mean..?"

"Spark isn't here." The angel said quietly, "They're..." He pressed his hand to the cold patch on his chest, "Here. Always with me. And we..." He coughed nervously, "Belong together."

"I love you." Crowley murmured, gripping the hand on his husband's chest tightly, "You're - you're doing so well Angel."

"I have you - and three little muses - and our friends to thank for it." was the reply, "Maybe I - we - should do something for everybody. But we've just had garden parties for the birthdays."

"We could host Christmas." Crowley suggested. Immediately he bit his tongue. _Why did you say that you idiot?! Quiet Christmases getting drunk and watching the kids go hyper on chocolate are your thing!_

"Crowley." Aziraphale's eyes had lit up, "Oh it's perfect! We must, we can get everybody around!"

"Maybe not everybody." Crowley managed, "I'm sure the Them will have their own families to celebrate with."

"Well yes." the angel practically squealed, "But they can pop around for hot chocolate and mince pies and a little tot of-"

"They're only just old enough to drink, Angel!" Crowley laughed.

"No?" Aziraphale was a little disappointed. At Crowley's look he frowned, "They don't give children rum anymore?"

"Only on their dummies when they're teething." Crowley laughed, "Come on you, bedding in bed, kids to school, then we can think about this."

*

Aziraphale still had his sad times. It was understandable. But as the first anniversary faded into the past, the skies began to clear again. The angel returned to their bed tentatively, shy of invading Crowley's space after running so hard away from him. They teamed up to help the children with their homework.

The girls had started secondary school a month previously, and with that had come a problem that Aziraphale hadn't had to deal with until now. He shushed gently at Ariel when she came home overwhelmed one evening, her shell-shocked expression giving way to tears as soon as he asked, "Oh my dear, what on earth is wrong?"

He let her bury her head in his chest until there was no light stimulation, a click having done nothing to switch the light off, and wrapped his arms gently around her head to blot out the noise as he sat them both on the sofa.

Alice studied her sister long and hard, before asking Crowley if she could borrow his phone to look up something. The demon handed it over before chasing down Alexis, who was determined to strip off his uniform in the hallway and run naked around the house.

The boy apprehended and pulling on his bunny onesie, Crowley glanced at the phone that was being shoved under his nose, "What is it - huh. Where did you hear about that?"

"Teacher at school said it. About Ri. Don't think she meant anything mean, she felt concerned."

Crowley scanned his eyes down the page a little closer, "Always possible. I suppose we should discuss it on parents evening. And there has been a lot of stress for us all to take in."

Alexas shrieked in joy at whatever was on the TV, and began to leap around the room in his usual post-school hyperactivity session. Ariel whined. Aziraphale screwed his eyes up, and hummed gently to blot out the other noises.

Crowley narrowed his eyes. Part of him wondered how either of them ever thought they'd cope with 4 kids.

*

"Do you think the kids can have human ailments?" Crowley asked diplomatically, after the children were in bed. Aziraphale looked up from the demon's lap, where he had rested his head to enjoy a book while Crowley watched late night television.

"They get colds, dear."

"Yeah, so-" The demon scratched the back of his neck, "How about learning difficulties?"

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes, cogs in his ethereal brain turning, "I don't see it."

"Urrr... Ngk. Like." Crowley grabbed his phone, "Autism spectrum, for example. Noise sensitivity. Hyperfocus. Or ADHD stuff, like hyperactivity and wandering mind."

"That's just children, surely Crowley?"

"Ngk. No Angel, worse than normal. All kids have times when they won't listen or they'll be addicted to something or so tired everything makes them scream. I'm talking about... all the time though."

Aziraphale sat up, confusion on his face.

"Ariel, Angel."

"New schools are sometimes hard to-"

"She's been there 6 weeks."

"Oh." Aziraphale blinked, twitching his fingers around the book and straightening his waistcoat instinctively.

"Angel, don't panic."

"I'm not."

"You are, your nails are going to mark that book."

"Oh bother..." the angel put his book down, "Crowley, our children are perfect-"

"To us, yeah. But she is struggling with the outside world. We've had a lot of upheaval lately. And she has been struggling more this year. There's nothing wrong with her - she just experiences things differently - like - like - like I feel the cold more than you, or-"

Aziraphale was struggling to form the words. Crowley took his hand, "Maybe we need to keep an eye on her? And talk to her teacher come open evening. But there's no rush right now. Don't change anything. She made straight for you - you're comfort for her - just keep doing what you do."

"I suppose we've been lucky that we've only had to take them to human establishments for those ghastly shots." Aziraphale managed.

Crowley took a breath and raised his hand to his husband's shoulder. Aziraphale raised his eyes, wide and a little hurt.

"It's nobody's fault, Angel. Just our kids being -our- kids."

He didn't think it was the time to point out his husband's fluttering fingers, touching to the edges of that worn waistcoat again in stress as his eyes darted around the room. The last thing he needed was for it to be pointed out where the girl probably got it from. Luckily for him, Aziraphale was naive enough that despite his intelligence, he hadn't made the connection yet.

"Movie night? I'll do cinnamon sugar popcorn."

Aziraphale gazed at him blankly a moment before blinking, nodding his head, "Yes. I think maybe I... could use the distraction." He reached for the remote on the coffee table.

"Crowley?"

"Mm?" The demon paused at the door.

"Where did this rubber duck come from?"

Crowley snorted, "Pick a film, Angel, or I'm going with Rise of the Lycans again."

"It's assaulting a dinosaur."

"Evolution." Crowley snorted.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Think I might move Sunday posting to Saturday instead while I'm posting 3x a week. Splits it up a bit more :)

Uriel waited patiently in the lift. As the doors opened, she stepped out into the lucid space that had been chosen. There was a sunlit balcony, with a magnificent view of the Himalayas overshadowing the Grand Canyon. Uriel bowed politely and intoned, "It is the appointed hour."

Michael sipped at a sparkling water, and raised an eyebrow, "The hour began 20 minutes ago. But I suppose you're in the ballpark. Gabriel's a no show too."

"Oh?" Uriel took a glass from the little table. The water cooler was more for show that anything else, but a drop of holy water in polite company was an experience not to be sniffed at. She rejoined Michael, sniffing a little at the air.

"Perhaps..." she began, "He has an issue with the light?"

"You've been listening to rumours again." Michael admonished, "Gabriel has not fallen. His stay on Earth may be a little... enforced, but he has no more access to the basement than you or.." She stopped herself, "Or anyone else..."

There was a long pause as the two angels took in the view, the freshness of the air coming off the crisp snow and beating down the dryness of the arid canyon.

"Michael?" Uriel started again.

"Mm?"

"Those two. The... traitors." She paused, finding the words, "Do they... work as the other pairings have?"

"Aziraphale wrote the manual." Michael replied, as if this answered everything.

"No." Uriel replied, "Forgive my indiscretion, but... Gabriel, Sandalphon... neither have formed a functional family unit as the traitors did."

"No." Michael admitted.

"Is it possible a misinterpretation was made in the original orders? They were held up as the example, after all."

"Hell below Uriel, I don't know." Michael admitted, "The orders were so brief."

"There has been some talk in the lower ranks of wanting to meet younger demons in a manner similar to young humans." Uriel managed, "I fear if there is so little faith that we at the top are doing right, we may have another rebellion on our hands."

"Only a few more years..." Michael sighed.

"Human concepts of time..." Uriel moaned, "They are so slow."

"They live such short lives, they make what they can of them." Michael replied. "Meanwhile Gabriel is having a sulk, and the ranks only have to wait a few years for this batch of youngsters to grow up. We shall see what manner of celestial they are, and work from there. Trial and error. They should have more faith in the great plan."

"Yes." Uriel agreed, "But there is definitely unease in the ranks. We could use more action to quell the more enthusiastic angels."

"Play it by ear." Michael nodded, "I have another visit to make some time soon."

"Certainly if Gabriel insists on us going to him-"

"Gabriel isn't stupid. He won't be living where I last saw him. No - if he will not visit his child and provide reports, I will have to visit to gather the information."

"How is Beelzebub?"

"As far as I can tell, the Prince of hell is far more settled with their lot than Gabriel will ever be. Don't you find that odd?"

"That Beelzebub is happy playing parent in a clean flat, out of the pits of the nightmare?" Uriel asked incredulously, "I'm surprised more demons didn't want to try it. It must be horrifying down there, away from the light-"

"I suppose. They were angels once."

Uriel glanced up at Michael. The Archangel shook her head, "You haven't met Aziraphale's children, Uriel. They aren't demons. Which is more than I can say for Aziraphale these days. But the children... I would not have believed they were demon spawn. And Aziraphale saw something in the demon Crowley which meant he did not run, did not destroy the hell spawn himself. And this mingling... Is the Lord trying to tell us this millennia old feud should end?"

Uriel contemplated this, sipping her drink, "That's... bigger than a war..."

"Peace." Michael pondered, "But is enough fixed that we could exist together again?"

"Enough seems to be fixed that the Archangel Michael is questioning the great plan." Uriel offered. Michael nodded, "A lot has changed. I do not think 2 children will be enough, either. But they are a trial run... we can observe the development of the one we can locate, continue to hunt for the other, and see how this turns out."

*

Crowley stirred, moaning. He was hungover as heaven. And somebody was shrieking.

"Alexas Oberon Fell-Crowley!" Aziraphale's voice rang out on the landing. Crowley tried to bury his head under his pillow.

"Put some clothes on, will you?!"

Crowley opened an eye, "We have to stop watching that film."

The bathroom door banged open, Alexas still squealing. Then there was a different cry, an exclamation from Aziraphale this time, "Lucifer in Hell!"

"Hey, no invoking the beast when Alexas is involved." Crowley called with a chuckle. Then there was a giggle.

"Dad." Alice whispered. He opened an eye, "Li, Dad's feeling a little rough-"

"Dad, You have to see." The girl was biting her lip, "Please Dad, before Daddy takes them all out."

Crowley groaned, and rolled out of bed. Thankful he had at least kept his underwear on last night, he allowed himself to be lead to the bathroom.

There was enough rubber ducks of all sizes in the bath to overspill it. Aziraphale was staring, unable to quite work out how to start removing them all. Balanced precariously on top was a duck the size of a small terrier, wearing a small crown and apparently a pair of wellies. It was this duck that shuffled slightly as Ariel popped up from underneath, "Ducks!"

Aziraphale managed a little squeak, "So-So they are dear." He gazed at the mass of yellow plastic, "Did one of you bring these from the Pacific drift?"

Crowley moved to guide the angel out of the bathroom, primarily before he had a meltdown but also so he didn't see the little orange duck on top of the bathroom cabinet who was wearing a tiny silver cross (How that one got up that high was anybody's guess)

"Kids, you know what to do."

"Yes Dad." They chorused.

The children at school, the pair were free to drive up to London with Anathema and Newt for Christmas shopping. Somehow the baby seat fit happily between the two humans, and Jennet gurgled to herself at the ride. Aziraphale kept glancing back and smiling at her, and she was happy to oblige in return.

"Do you want to wear her carrier?" Anathema asked tentatively as Crowley dumped the Bentley where he liked, as usual.

"Oh my dear, that would be wonderful!" Aziraphale's eyes lit up at the idea of being in charge of the little angel. The girl was as pleased to see him, "Zi, Zi!"

"Oh darling girl!" Aziraphale chuckled, "You're coming on so well! I'm so sorry, it is a hard name to say, I know."

"Just let us know if you need a break." The woman replied as Newt swung the baby bag onto his back, "Are you sure you can park here?"

"I can park anywhere, Witchfinder junior." Crowley snorted, with a click of his fingers. A permit happily sat in the window, "Come on, Harriet won't want to have to pick the kids up again in a hurry. Places to be."


	25. Chapter 25

They had been marvelling at all the toys in a particular shop for half an hour before Aziraphale nudged Crowley, "Isn't that--?"

Standing near the door with a basket of baby clothes and a high set pram, was a dark haired figure. They were looking idly at a display of children's books. As the two approached, Crowley held Aziraphale back a little, "Jennet."

The angel realised he still had the baby, and hung back a little, behind a clothes rack, in case the figure lashed out.

"Beez!" Crowley called cheerfully, "Shopping for Christmas?!"

Beelzebub had somehow shifted their form to have neither the conspicuous fly on their head (Though they were wearing a ridiculous beanie hat with red fly eyes crocheted onto it, which closer up may actually have been the swarm making themselves an intriguing form of camouflage), or the terrible blisters on their face. Their semi permanent scowl was still present though.

"Do not tell me you zzelebrate that."

"We have an arrangement." Crowley chuckled, "We have food, a tree and presents, no Lord or Christ nonsense."

Beelzebub buzzed crossly.

"It's nice for the children." Aziraphale supplied, "They get to join in at school and everything."

"Chrizzmazz is an important zocial event." Crowley was sure this wasn't a question, more a confirmation the prince was making to themself.

"You could bring Lucien to ours?" Aziraphale said without thinking, "We were going to have friends around, have the children open presents together..."

"I am not willing to zzzpend a holy holiday with an angel..."

"You won't be." Crowley snapped.

"I don't know what I am." Aziraphale replied.

Beelzebub raised an eyebrow, "That thing you have there-"

"Oh." Aziraphale blushed. _We should have known we couldn't hide a baby angel from the Prince of Hell..._

"Where did you get it?"

"She's not ours." Aziraphale managed. At that moment Anathema appeared, "Oh, here you are!" She stopped, "Oh. Now this is unexpected."

Newt appeared behind her, gazing around his partner in a concerned manner, "Is that-?"

"Beelzebub of Hell." Crowley replied, "You remember them from Armageddont, don't you?"

Jennet squealed. Anathema made her way to Aziraphale, "Oh, think somebody needs changing." She released the clips on the carrier, "Newt, bag please."

Beelzebub frowned, "That izzz..."

"Jennet is theirs." Aziraphale said, "Graced from the almighty."

"You are being exzztremely flippant." The prince buzzed, "Conzzidering..."

"I am working on myself."

The Prince nodded, considering.

"Will you join us? I'd love to see Lucien again for Christmas."

"Angel..." Crowley turned to stare witheringly at his husband, but the angel brushed it off with a sweep of his hand, "Extending the hand of friendship to a fellow Celestial, Crowley. Spirit of the season?"

"I know what spirit I'd prefer." The demon grumbled.

"But you must get the boy something!" Aziraphale insisted, "He won't quite understand it all this young but I'm sure he would appreciate it. Newton, would you help Beelzebub please?"

"Wha-What's wrong with you two-" Newt was concerned at the idea of being alone with any of these strange celestial beings, but moreso with the frankly horrifying Prince of Hell.

"Yeah, you've got a kid the same age, how about you show Beez the appropriate kids toys?" Crowley chuckled, "We'll wait for Anathema and meet back at the car at 12."

Newt eyed the Prince as Crowley took Aziraphale's arm and lead him away.

"Crowley, was that not a little cruel?"

"Nah, kid needs his eyes opening to the evils of the world once in a while." Crowley snorted, "Hey I thought Alexas could use a new bike-"

"You'll be wanting to get him an electric kids car next." The angel managed.

"Why not, he's old enough-"

"He's 6, Crowley! And hyperactive. And - and - you know he'd just run it into your flowers!"

Crowley paused, "You're right there. Puck needs to do his driving test before he gets behind a wheel."

Aziraphale exhaled.

"Come on then, how about some heelies?"

"Crowley, No!" Aziraphale shrieked as he was dragged bodily across the store.

"Light up trainers? Pogo stick? Always said he should have a trampoline to work off that energy-"

Aziraphale stopped dead, wide eyed at the idea of Puck bouncing on a trampoline until he went high enough for his wings to keep him up. Rather than raise this issue he instead asked, "And you're going to put it in the garden in the middle of December?"

*

"You see, there has to be presents for the kids-"

"You zzzpoil them."

"Honestly, gifts are what it's all about for the kids. None of them care for Jesus anymore-" Newt realised too late what he was saying, "Er..."

Beelzebub gave him a sly smile, "You humanzz... Crowley wazzz right, you dezztroy yourselvezzz so eazzily." They paused, "A gift... like hizz first dagger?"

Newt swallowed, "Erm, how about build a bear?"

Beelzebub gazed up at the banners, still advertising the upcoming Halloween (Crowley had of course been against Christmas shopping in October, but Aziraphale had worn him down with mentions of getting the children some things for their costumes while they were in London)

"I mean, that one's excellent-" Newt indicated a bear wearing a devil outfit. Beelzebub snorted, "That is offenzzive."

"No?" Newt managed as the Prince of Hell strode past him. Lucien had been asleep, but woke in the shop, gazing around at the ceiling. The carrier in the pram was tilted so the boy could see whoever was pushing it, and he smiled widely at the familiar face, "Bee!"

"Morning." Beelzebub returned. Newt took a glance at the boy, "Oh."

"What?" Beelzebub growled.

"I just... I don't know. Expected him to have fangs or... something."

"He izzz a child. Not an animal."

Newt fell quiet, waving at the boy. Another smile was the response.

"Good morning Sir, and - er - m'am? Shopping for the little one, are we?" The greeter beamed at them, "Oh, aren't they lovely? Boy or girl?"

Beelzebub glowered. Lucien looked at them, then to the greeter. He giggled. The greeter sneezed, "Oh my, Oh deary me-" They sneezed again. And again.

"Pardon, Excuse me, just have to go and-" another sneeze, "Dave? Tissues?"

Newt stared at Lucien. The boy beamed. Beelzebub barely hid a smile and ruffled the boy's hair, "You are an exzzellent hellzzpawn."

*

"You sent Newt where?!" Anathema managed.

"Relax Device." Crowley snorted, miracling a small pile of purchased presents into the attic at home while Aziraphale picked wrapping papers (Based mostly on whatever Jennet was cooing at, Anathema supposed), "We'll go find him when Angel's done."

"I swear, Crowley-"

"Good. Another temptation achieved." The demon chuckled, "You done Angel?"

They made their way out into the shopping centre proper, and honed in on Build a bear by the three employees standing outside trying to help the fourth with their sneezing fit.

"Poor dear." Aziraphale murmured, clicking his fingers without a thought. Crowley glanced at him.

"Sorry." he murmured, "Habit."

Crowley squeezed his hand. Then Jennet frowned at the angel, "Ah..?"

"Nothing, dear girl."

"Oh." The fourth employee managed as they walked past, "Oh lord. That was terrible. It came on all of a sudden. Must have been the perfume one of that odd couple was wearing."

Aziraphale glanced down. Jennet smiled at him knowingly. The angel beamed, "You are smart little one, aren't you?"

"There they are." Anathema pointed.

Newt swallowed in a mixture of guilt and panic under the security guards scrutiny, and waved his hands at his charge, "Yes, sorry its.. You see this is a bear but that's the head of a unicorn..."

"Yezzzz."

"They urm, they don't really go together."

"Thizz place izz called build a bear, yezz?"

"Well, yes but-"

"I am building. I have done thiz before, with living creaturezz, thiz iz far eazzier."

"Having fun?" Crowley called. Newt practically fell into Anathema's arms in relief.

"Oh, look at him!" The witch smiled at Lucien, "Purple eyes?"

"From hizz father, unfortunately." Beelzebub replied, spitting at the floor. Crowley clicked away the Security guard's attention, "Have you picked your bear? Might be time to stuff it and get out of here."


	26. Chapter 26

Christmas was a completely different state of affairs to the previous year. The cottage was full of people (and miraculous chairs, and two big heaters on the patio outside the kitchen)

As predicted, the Them had been around early in the day, on holiday from universities and all doing well. Harriet and Warlock were already around, and the young man went outside with Adam for a time while the others talked with the children.

"You two okay?" Crowley asked as he strode out.

"Just hanging out." Warlock replied, "Don't get to see anybody anymore."

"You should come to Oxford some time. We play D&D a lot. You'd love it." Adam smiled.

"Kinda busy." Warlock replied.

"What, hanging around?" Crowley teased, "Babysitting?"

Warlock made a sign that was definitely not polite. Crowley roared with laughter, "You remember that?"

"I'm not the antichrist, but I have a brain Nanny." The young man snorted.

"Always knew that." The demon replied, "How is the bar work treating you?"

"Not bad." He replied, swinging his legs where he sat on the edge of a raised bed Crowley had built last year to lift the flowers to the level of the living room window, "Mr. Herriot doesn't like too many earrings but he keeps his mouth shut. Hard to get hold of people who can turf out the boisterous ones."

Crowley snorted, "Any word from your father?"

"Sent me some money for Christmas." Warlock shrugged, "Busy as always. Going to buy a bass."

"I keep telling him he can only play one at a time." Adam smiled.

"True." Crowley nodded, "How's diplomacy and religious studies?"

"Hard work."

"Aziraphale did warn you."

"I didn't say unenjoyable." The young man beamed.

Inside, the conversation was less calm.

"And then I slammed him with my secondary argument!" Pepper cried, "And he was left open for an attack right at the heart of his point. And that's how I got to be head of the debate society."

"Wow." Harriet chuckled, "You certainly showed him!"

"I did." She beamed, "Listen up you three-" She addressed the children now, "But especially you two girls - you want to make the best of the world you've been left, you have to stand up for it, okay?"

Alice enthusiastically nodded. Ariel followed her sister's lead a little more timidly. On her teachers concern, her parents had finally taken her to see somebody, and though the process was slow it was at least happening. (Aziraphale was torn between taking the child somewhere private and easing the NHS's burden, or actively showing support for the health service by going to the local Doctor. In the end the latter had won out, if only so the Angel could sit in the waiting room and stare despairingly to Crowley when they saw some of the struggling folk in the waiting rooms, until the demon gave in and did something about their pain.)

The downside was that the girl had turned inward on herself a little. With her sister making knowledgeable comments, she had withdrawn to be with her thoughts.

Alexas stared Pepper in the eye, "I just ate a LEGO."

"Good work, Al." Brian snorted.

"QI reported that it takes on average 1.71 days for a LEGO head to pass through the digestive system." Wensleydale added.

"Oh good grief." Harriet cried, "What size piece?"

"2 brick."

"Good lord Alexas!" Harriet despaired, "Go and tell your father what you've done."

Warlock and Adam returned to the living room at length to watch the children. The tree set up in here was splendid, a kinked spine yelled into straightening before Aziraphale had noticed it, the top half decorated with tinsel and delicate glass baubles while the lower half was stuffed with sparkles, lights, tinsel and all manner of trinkets the children had picked themselves. As well as little caramel chocolates. Alexas was eating one as Crowley admonished him for eating non-foods.

The boy smiled sweetly, and held out his hand. Crowley instinctively reached for it, and was greeted with a gungy, sticky 2-spot LEGO brick and a chocolate wrapper. He stared at his hand, mildly disgusted as Alexas hopped off the sofa and skipped into the kitchen to see if there was anything else he could scavenge.

Aziraphale was in the hall, making the festive call to Madame Tracey on his landline. He stroked his son's blonde curls as the child hugged his leg, playing with the ginger swirl at the front, "Dear, what do you say to Madame Tracey for your gift?"

"Fanks." The boy beamed, "Daddy says I can't open it yet though!"

"Dear, presents when the guests are here." Aziraphale smiled.

"Gunna open them if they don't hurry." he pouted.

"Oh dear, I'm afraid I will have to go, I think he may have had too much chocolate already today." Aziraphale listened a moment, "I am glad it arrived safely. Have a most wonderful day." As he hung up he gazed down at the boy, "Alexas dear, don't make me think something uncharitable."

"Like what?!"

"Like how he could still give away your presents if you don't behave." Harriet said. Alexas frowned, "Daddy wouldn't-"

Aziraphale raised the hand Harriet couldn't see, fingers paused at the start of a click. Alexas shifted uneasily, "Sorry Daddy."

"Good boy." The angel lifted him up, "Shall we see if there's anything you can help with?"

Anathema and Newt arrived around 11am.

"Sorry to be so late, think Jennet's got another tooth coming or something, had to dose her up and wait for her to calm down-" Newt managed.

"Nothing to do with it being a holy day, of course..?" Anathema murmured to Aziraphale.

"Shouldn't have thought so." The angel replied.

The girl tilted her head and reached for the ornate little chandelier that hung by the foot of the stairs, "Ah!"

"Oh, here she is..." Harriet moved to the little Angel, "Such a pretty girl!"

Calmed by the attention, the girl allowed herself to be passed over and taken into the living room with the other children. She stared at the lights on the tree, shuffling as best as she could on her backside towards them.

"No." Alexas told her, "See. Not touch."

The girl screamed at him. The Them took that as their cue to leave.


	27. Chapter 27

As it was, the bird was being carved up by the time the front door opened for the last time.

Aziraphale exchanged a glance with Crowley before leaning backward in his chair to look down the hall, "Oh, Beelzebub! How lovely, we weren't sure you were coming - let me put Lucien in the other high chair. Coat over there - Oh. Oh! Thank you!"

A moment later Aziraphale arrived with the dark haired child in one arm, and a bottle in the other, which he passed to Crowley. Despite his suspicions, it turned out to be a perfectly lovely wine which went well with dinner.

"We must look a strange bunch." Aziraphale mused after a couple more drinks, feeling nicely warm and muzzy, "Still, these are strange times."

"I'll say." Crowley managed, still unsure how long they could go without making a joke about divine or infernal doings that would alert Harriet.

"Mom, I'm older than the American age of consent, and the UK one is much lower." Warlock was saying.

"I'm still not having you get drunk!" The woman shook her head, "Lemonade next. You can have some more later."

"Mom I work in a damn pub-"

"Can I try?" Alexas piped up.

"I don't think that's-" Aziraphale frowned, "Crowley!"

"What?" the demon stared at his husband, "We're in private, it's just a sip, and he might go the heaven to sleep." He took back his glass and frowned at it.

"Bit more than a sip." Harriet chuckled, "Kid's been watching you neck it back."

"Bleh." Alexas decided, "How can you drink that?!"

The twins giggled. Anathema deftly caught a piece of chicken that Jennet had just thrown with a squeal. In the high chair next to her, Lucien banged his tiny fists on the tray. He was covered in a lumpy red mess from his plate.

"Think somebody likes cranberry sauce." The witch chuckled.

"He doezz have a zzweet tooth."

The boy turned to his neighbour, offering her a piece of chicken slathered in the stuff. Jennet stared at him a moment, slapped a hand in her gravy, and leaned over to add it to the mess of the boy's face. They shrieked together, obviously amused.

"Found a friend I see." Newt smiled.

"She makes them everywhere." Anathema added, "But people are rarely in her life more than once, apart from us."

"Have your parents not visited?" Aziraphale asked.

"Mother is too busy enjoying her freedom. The freedom she had before... she was locked down with me." She snorted, "She'll come around at some point."

"I know those feelings." Harriet mused, "You're born and then you're wanted out. Go play, go out with your friends, go to collage, live on campus, get married and clear off."

"Yes." Anathema smiled, as though that were everything.

"Yezzz..." Beelzebub nodded, "And not a zzhread of guidanzze."

"Exactly." Harriet replied, "I always said I wouldn't raise Warlock like that."

Beelzebub was gazing at Lucien with something indiscernible on their face. As the meal finished they reached for the baby wipes, "You are mezzy."

"Bee..." Lucien complained as his face and hands were scrubbed and his bib removed. Jennet squeaked crossly at the undoing of her hard work.

"Come on dear." Anathema chuckled, "Let's get you changed, then you can open your presents and have your bottle."

The afternoon wore on. More wine was drunk, presents were opened (An easel for Ariel, a new push-bike for Alexas, an e-reader for Alice (Well, Aziraphale had given up that fight when Alice had said she wanted all the books in Waterstones), and age appropriate toys, clothes and games for all of the children present. Warlock had been bought a music book for the guitar he wanted and a small plush dinosaur, and there were exchanges of books, drinks, music and films and some of Aziraphale's attempts at knitting - a hobby he'd taken up since the summer - between the adults.)

Lucien and Jennet refused to sleep, and when their bottles were done they sat happily enough on either side of Lucien's 'Unibear' - the boy sucking his thumb happily as he cuddled at it. Jennet was more interested in it's wings of iridescent fabric.

"I wonder if she will sprout wings." Anathema said out loud when Harriet had popped out.

"The girls did." Crowley told her.

"Was it in public?"

"Yeah, but nothing we couldn't hide. Lex on the other hand..."

"Oh my. I can imagine."

"On the beach in summer." Aziraphale murmured, happily tipsy, "He just had to tear out of my hand and into the water. If that wave had caught him I'm sure he would have been dragged out to sea."

"Had to wipe a few memories over that." Crowley chuckled.

"Great. Got that to look forward to." Newt managed.

"There's always the Fozzie Wakka app." Warlock suggested.

At the silence the lad looked up. All eyes were on him, barring Aziraphale's, as the angel was still gazing contentedly at his glass.

"You remember? You got the twin's wings in the wedding photos?"

The adults exchanged worried expressions.

"I'm glad cameras are banned in schools now." Anathema managed.

"Crowley?" Aziraphale asked suddenly.

"Mm?"

"Why was there a flood of rubber ducks seemingly coming out of the drainpipe in the garden?"

Crowley snorted a laugh.

Eventually the smallest children got tired. Even Alexas, who had been outside to play on his bike after lunch, only lasted until the evening sandwiches. So soon enough their guests were packing up, Anathema and Newt with thanks for the gifts and meal, and Beelzebub with a knowing nod.

"That was so weird." Crowley admitted.

"Mmm." Aziraphale nodded, swaying gently back and forth with Alexas mostly asleep in his arms.

"Taking him up?"

"Mmhm." The angel replied, "The girls aren't making too much noise either. Might have a quiet night."

"Nanny." Warlock was suddenly at their sides, "I'm going out. Told mom. Adam invited me over."

"Have fun, _Dearie_ " Crowley chuckled, briefly adopting a soft lilt to his accent. The lad grinned widely, grabbing his coat and scarf and heading out.

"Just want to finish a book after they're in bed." Aziraphale told him, "I won't be too long."

"Sure thing, Angel."


	28. Chapter 28

"Anthony?"

"Harriet?" Crowley looked up from the wine bottles he was deciding between now there were only 3 of them to cater for.

"I er..." The woman paused, "How come you and your husband haven't aged in 20 years?"

Crowley froze.

"What?" He managed.

"I... I spoke to Newt earlier. And I realised something."

Crowley inwardly cursed the man, "That we have amazing constitutions?"

"That you two have looked in your 40s for 2 decades at least. And possibly... longer."

Crowley's heart, such as it was manifested, was sinking. He felt the urge to sober up, but even that was too much in the presence of a human who might not have worked it all out yet (He hoped?)

"Do you possibly own a Mary Poppins outfit?"

Crowley laughed nervously, "Ngk - we agreed no personal bedroom questions..."

"Anthony, were you my son's Nanny?"

"Nah, well, I mean, it all..." He sat down opposite her, "This... might take some explaining."

Harriet nodded, "I'm listening."

Crowley clicked his fingers and then removed his glasses. Harriet's eyes widened and she blinked. Then she rubbed her eyes, "Why have I never noticed that before? I haven't even had that much-"

"Harriet." Crowley replied softly, "It's because you weren't supposed to notice." He paused, dropping his gaze, "I... Harriet. Me, Azira, and our children... we're... we're not human."

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Azira and myself are... celestial beings. An angel, and a demon. Or... we were. Complicated things happened. His boss wanted to punish him for our... fraternising. Long story short we conceived the twins as a result and God her fucking self stepped in to protect us. And now we're not really an angel or demon anymore."

"What - What are you even saying-?"

"I know. I know its ridiculous. But listen, just listen. The time you came up to the nursery just to see me. Because you were angry, and hurt, and worn down - and you said you came to me because I was the closest thing you had to a friend in your heavily guarded fortesssss of a house."

The woman stared at him hard.

"And I believe you kissed me."

Harriet blinked, "So - so... What were you doing... Around us?" Her human brain was turning the information over again and again, trying to make sense of it. He knew that much. He could see it.

 _Come on, accept it, don't get weird with us now..._ He took a deep breath.

"At the time... Armageddon was about to happen, and we..." the demon rolled his eyes, "We cocked up. Royally, astoundingly. We thought Warlock was the antichrist."

Harriet snorted, "Sometimes I think he is."

"Nah." Crowley replied, "Adam is."

"Adam - Adam Young? Intelligent, kind, a diamond in the rough, wants to change the world?"

"That's what happens when the antichrist isn't raised by a pair of idiots trying to fake like they're doing their jobs while their respective offices watch."

Another strange look.

"Then our... friendship. Back then. Now. Its-"

"Built on misunderstandings. And yes... a lie. But I wouldn't have made myself known to you here if I hadn't... felt for you and Warlock. If I hadn't wanted to help. Knowing what you had been through."

Harriet gazed at him levelly, "Who knows?"

"The Them, Warlock guessed the moment he saw me." the demon sighed, "Anathema and Newt. Beelzebub, well, is... THAT Beelzebub, so they know."

Harriet rubbed her eyes and exhaled, "This is... a lot."

"I know." He nodded, "I won't complicate it further."

She paused. Distantly Crowley heard Aziraphale's step cross the hall and head into the library.

"Thanks for telling me." Harriet said suddenly.

Crowley rubbed his eyes with a hand, "We d-don't have to fall out over thiss, do we?"

"No." she replied.

"Good. I mean. I didn't want to lie to you, but... it wassn't a story I c-could tell until you were of a mind to accept it."

"I see that." She nodded, "But I trusted you then, Anthony. I still do." She paused, "Erm. Can I?"

"Can you what?"

"Can I see... do you have... Erm. Wings?"

Crowley blinked. The woman had surprised him with her immediate acceptance. Then again, she had a religious background and had obviously been working up to asking this for some time. Perhaps part of her always knew.

He stood from his chair and took a deep breath before rolling his shoulders back in the same motion as his wings drew forwards. He watched Harriet stare wide eyed at the shining feathers. She marvelled over them, hands to her mouth and eyes wide, for several moments before murmuring, "Oh. So this is what Angels look like."

Crowley snorted.

"What?"

"...Wrong way around, Harriet."

She paused, looked back at his eyes, "I see..."

"Azira is the angel. The angel Aziraphale, who guarded the garden of Eden and made a friend in a curious demon who wondered where his God given flaming sword had gone."

"Your vows." Harriet remembered, expression warming. Crowley smiled.

"Can I- Can I touch them?"

Crowley brought them forward gently, where the woman could touch them without getting up. He was concerned she might be a little shaken despite her acceptance. A wing tip caressed her shoulder and she reached gingerly to touch it, "Oh - it's so warm!" she trembled with the sensation of the once infernal wings on her skin and paused.

"Harriet?"

"You must see me as a child does an ant." She managed. She closed her eyes a moment, marvelling at the warmth and comforting cinnamon and smoke smell, "Do you... flirt with other ants?"

"I may be a demon, Harriet." Crowley managed, "But I'm the one who convinced Azira to help save Earth. I don't see you as an ant, not by a long shot. You're brilliant."

The woman was still fascinated with his wings. Crowley smiled, "Angel won't show his off anymore, but I can show you something-"

He moved to the library and made his way to Aziraphale's desk. The angel was sat in the seat reading, and barely stirred as Crowley opened the cupboard in it and started rummaging.

"Are you alright dear?" Aziraphale asked.

"Harriet knows, Angel. Want the album."

Aziraphale sighed and pulled down a compartment in the side of the desk, "Be careful with it." He handed Crowley a large manuscript and an old book. As Crowley folded his wings away and sat on the floor, Harriet stared at Aziraphale briefly, "Why do... what is around your..."

She stopped, unsure of herself suddenly, and shrugged it off at Crowley's curious look. She moved to sit and look at the pages that were spread out. Art mostly, occasional letters In recognisable hands. A Da Vinci portrait of two female but recognisable figures in a large window seat, the redhead holding an apple and the blonde a book.

Her breath caught. The age of the page was obvious.

"How - how old are you?"

"Older than the world, my dear." Aziraphale supplied, "Beyond that it doesn't really matter."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter, be out Thursday/Wednesday night I guess, then next Lightning strike continues the story....


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting early! Lightning Strike will hopefully begin next week. 
> 
> Basically I work in the NHS and for the second time in about a month our supposedly fairly safe place to work may has been infiltrated by the evil Covid. I'm having to isolate from my elderly/asthmatic family, so I'm eager for any contact with other human beings today and going into the weekend. 
> 
> Please enjoy. LS is being beta'd as I type.

"Sandalphon."

The angel waved a hand dismissively.

"Don't you have any control over it?"

"He has his own mind."

"Which is developing so slowly."

Sandalphon stopped listening. Gabriel was in one of those moods.

"You could go back to the gym." Sandalphon suggested.

"Nobody else there."

"Go jogging."

"So many drunks."

Sandalphon was thinking that honestly being drunk seemed like a good idea right now, "Come along Samehra, sleeping would be very wise right now."

The boy shrieked again, throwing himself bodily against his father. The archangel heard the door slam over the noise of the child, and exhaled, "He's gone out. You can calm down."

Soft brown eyes stared up at him, puffy with tears. He hunched his shoulders roughly and grabbed at his father's shirt. Then the Angel realised what the trouble was. He pulled back the boy's onesie to find a pair of baby blue wings ruffling away, damp like a butterfly's. There was a little blood - this human corporation wasn't quite sure how to bring them out without damaging itself - but the boy was suddenly a lot calmer.

"There now." The Archangel stroked the boy's blonde hair, "How about a story - the story of Christmas maybe?"

Samehra smiled in response, "Da..."

*

Crowley woke up on the sofa. Harriet was curled up next to him, and somebody had tucked them both in.

He sat up, headache pounding, "Urg."

"HAPPY BOXING DAY DADDY!" Alexas squealed. The girls also flooded in, giggling between themselves.

"Mm, morning already?" Harriet blinked, "Anthony did you mean what you-" She paused, "Oh."

Alexas bit his lip when he saw her, "Oops."

"It's alright this time son." Crowley replied, "She knows."

"Lucky!" Alexas giggled, and folded his wings away.

"I realised dear." Aziraphale said as he entered the room behind the girls, "I missed one of my presents to you in the festivities."

"Er..?" Crowley looked at the covered box approaching him, "What - what is?"

"Well, since somebody's been dropping hints." Aziraphale placed it on the floor in front of him.

"Open the cover Dad!" Ariel managed, excited. Crowley sat forward on the sofa and pulled gently at it. His eyes widened at the carry case inside.

"DUCKS?!"

Aziraphale chuckled. The children were grinning. Even Harriet began to laugh, "That one back-fired on you."

"Ducks of your own, Dad." Alice beamed. Crowley stared amazed at the 3. Three ladies, just like their eternal chickens.

He began to laugh, "Thank you Angel."

Aziraphale beamed cheekily, "Maybe now you can find out if they have ears?"

*

It was nowhere, no when. A void, at least at first. A total absence of light because what use is light in a place where nothing makes use of it?

Then the Lord arrived, and the void took on form and perspective; up and down, near and far, gravity and the thing that wasn’t sky.

Eternity passed. Or it didn’t, maybe; time was inconsequential after all.

The ‘sky’ split asunder in a vivid display of fire, lapping and burning in colours for which no human will ever have the words. From its depths drifted a figure, looking at their very worst. They were humanoid, with gnarled horns like a crown at their head, and tatty, bat like wings which let them drift within the idea of gravity until they arrived next to the creator.

"What?" he asked.

"I can’t just ask you over for a chat?"

"'Bout bloody time." Was the ex angel Lucifer's only reply. He sat, void and light supporting him as though a seat were there. The Lord who had suddenly always been seated, offered a cup.

"Tea?"

"Is it? Fascinating. Mine's better." Lucifer lifted his own cup, "What is this place?"

"The future, for some." The Lord sipped at whatever it was in their mug and nodded to herself, "Your drink is acceptable."

"And why are we here? Let me guess, you have invented a delightful new torment for my people, since the last one is going so well."

The Lord waved a calm, dismissive hand.

"This future is drawing closer. Decisions will be made. They are far beyond our ability to influence."

The ex-angel barked a deep, hollow laugh. The not-sky reeled and rumbled under them.

"Is that an assumption or an instruction?"

The Lord did not answer her creation beyond what may have been a bountiful smile.

"This place, is awaiting its creation." She reached out, glaring at the teacup. Without warning it became a brilliant yellow rubber duck with a tricorn hat and an eyepatch, "And it is no longer yours nor mine to create, my child."

The Lord sighed indulgently, "Its time will come."

Time, in this case was not something that would mean much to mortals. But these two entities knew where they stood. They knew now the most important thing about this void.

They knew that they did not know anything.

"Arse." Lucifer said to nobody in particular. The future was now in flux. So many possibilities. So many tracks to follow. Lucifer looked at his creator, and wondered for the first time if even she knew what they had unleashed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the case of my niece, the outcome was the most horrifyingly awful thing that can happen. But somebody, somewhere, was looking out for her parents; following 1 round of IVF they had a little boy this year.  
> And for everything shit that's happened between 2018 and 2020... He is a little marvel. I can't wait for the current nightmare to be over so I can go and meet my nephew. 
> 
> They are never a replacement; can never fill the hole left in the heart. But they will make a space of their own, and pwn it.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're interested, this series has a spotify playlist - Ineffable SENverse. If you have any suggestions for it, please let me know!


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